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“ But by all thy nature’s weakness. 
Hidden faults and follies known, 

Be thou, in rebuking evil, 

Conscious of thine own.” 

Whittier. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 

1872. 


A *2 


■*p 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 
J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 


CONTENTS 


I. — The Arrival 5 

II* — The Little Black Girl 14 

HI- — The Mysterious Big Boxes 20 

IV. — What the Mysterious Boxes contained ... 25 

V. — The Rough Pebbles 31 

VI. — Lola commences her Education .... 36 

VII. — Lola’s Mother ....... 42 

VIII. — “ The Trophies of Miltiades do not let me Sleep ” 47 

IX. — Potations, Plotting, and Propriety .... 53 

X. — How a Virtuous Matron was kept Awake . . 59 

XI. — Mrs. Norval did not enjoy her Buckwheat-Cakes, 

and Julian wouldn’t write any more Poetry . 65 

XII. — Something about the Sprig Pedigree . . . 71 


XIII. — What Mr. Isaac Sprig found at the “ Dead-Letter 


Office” 77 

XIV. — The Doctor was rewarded for listening to Mr. Hack- 

well’s Sermon 83 

XV. — Mrs. Norval’s High Principles begin their Work . 89 

XVI. — “ Veni, Vidi, Vici” 95 

XVII. — Julius Caesar Cackle, a Modem Darius . . . 100 

XVIII. — Lavinia to the Rescue 105 

XIX. — Mrs. Norval’s High Principles on the Rampage . hi 

XX. — Lavinia outdoes the Spartan Women . . .117 

XXI. — Julian and Hackwell inspect the Horrid Spots . 123 

XXII. — “ The Awful Little Bell” described by Mrs. Cackle 129 
XXIII. — “ It may be for years, and it may be forever” . 134 

XXIV. — Lavinia’s Experiences in Washington . . . 141 

XXV. — At the Capitol. — Mr. Cackle at Home . . . 147 

XXVI. — “ Must Isaac be left to Starve ?” 

XXVII. — No, Isaac shall not be left to Starve . . . 159 

XXVIII. — Mr. Hackwell and the Madam console each other . 164 

XXIX. — Lavvy’s Experience as Hospital Nurse . . .172 

XXX. — Captain Hackwell becomes a Hero and is Breveted 179 

XXXI. — The Major is the Object of great Solicitude . .187 


( 3 ) 


4 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

XXXII. — Mrs. Norval’s Conscience speaks loudly 
XXXIII. — Mrs. Norval’s Conscience waxes Dictatorial. — She 
obeys ........ 

XXXIV. — Mrs. Norval’s Virtuous Impulse rewarded . 
XXXV. — Messrs. Wagg and Head travel together 
XXXVI. — The Returned Prisoners, and what they said 
XXXVII.— Mrs. Norval’s Mental Debut .... 

XXXVIII. — In which the Major, like Yorick, was a Fellow of 
Infinite Humor ...... 

XXXIX. — Julian carries the War into Africa 

XL. — The Major’s Staff 

XLI. — Isaac in the Southern Confederacy 
XLII. — “ Shake not thy gory locks at me. Thou canst 

not say I did it.” 

XLIII. — Isaac in the Land of the Aztecs 

XLIV. — Bound for the United States .... 

XLV. — How Julian’s Patriotic Song was cut short . 
XLVI. — “ Oh, Romeo, where art thou ?” “ Je pleure, et le 
Roi s’amuse !”...... 

XLVII. — Julian states his Case to the President 
XLVIII. — “ Hooker and Skinner, Solicitors and Attorneys- 
at-Law” 


XLIX. — Lieutenants Wagg and Head enter the Grand 
Monde . . - . 

L. — Lola hears Important News 
LI. — Mademoiselle Mina’s Accident . 

LII. — Julian at the White House 
LIII. — Julian’s Fortunes take a New Turn 
LIV. — “ So, instead of a pistol, he cocked his tail. 

‘ Aha !’ quoth he, * what have we here ?’ ” . 

LV. — His Ex-Reverence shows the Cloven Foot 
LVI. — “ He awoke one morning and found himself 
famous” ....... 

LVII. — Who would have thought it ? 

LVIII. — The Major before Mrs. Norval’s Chair 
LIX. — Julian and Hackwell vis-a-vis . . 

LX.— “ II n’y a que les Morts qui ne reviennent pas !” 
Conclusion 


PAGE 

I 9 7 

205 

212 

217 

225 

235 

243 

249 

260 

267 

274 

279 

289 

294 

301 

305 

311 

317 

323 

329 

338 

349 

359 

367 

377 

382 

388 

398 

406 

418 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER I. 

THE ARRIVAL. 

“ What would the good and proper people of this 
world do if there were no rogues in it, — no social de- 
linquents ? The good and proper, I fear, would per- 
ish of sheer inanity, — of hypochondriac lassitude, — 
or, to say the least, would grow very dull for want 
of convenient whetstones to sharpen their wits. 
Rogues are useful.” 

So saying, the Rev. Mr. Hackwell scrambled up 
the steep side of a crazy buggy, which was tilting 
ominously under the pressure of the Rev. Mr. Ham- 
merhard’s weight, and sat by him. Then the Rev. 
Hackwell spread over the long legs of his friend 
Hammerhard a well-worn buffalo-robe, and tucked 
the other end carefully under his own graceful limbs, 
as if his wise aphorism upon rogues had suggested 
to him the great necessity of taking good care of 
himself and friend, all for the sake of the good and 
dull of this world. 

“ May I inquire whether present company sug- 
gested the philosophical query and highly moral 

i* (5 ) 


6 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


aphorism ? and if so, whether I am to be classed 
with the dull good, or the useful whetstones ?” asked 
Mr. Hammerhard the reverend. 

Mr. Hackwell smiled a smile which seemed to 
say, “ Ah, my boy! you know full well where we 
ought to be classed but he answered, — 

“ I was thinking of Dr. Norval.” 

“ Of Dr. Norval ! And in what category ?” 

“ In that of a whetstone, of course.” 

Mr. Hammerhard looked at his friend, and waited 
for him to explain his abstruse theory more clearly. 

“I was thinking,” Mr. Hackwell continued, “how, 
in default of real rogues (there being none such in our 
community, eh, Ham? ahem!), our good and proper 
people have made a temporary whetstone of Dr. 
Norval’s back. Which fact goes to prove that a social 
delinquent — real or supposed — is a necessity to good 
* people. As for the charity of the thing, why should 
people who have all the other virtues care to have 
charity ?” 

“An excellent text for next Sunday,” said Mr. 
Hammerhard, laughing. Mr. Hackwell joined in 
the laugh, aiid with a series of pulls and jerks to 
the reins, he began to turn slowly the big head of 
a yellow horse of a Gothic build and slow motion, 
in the direction of the railroad depot, for the two 
divines were going to meet Dr. Norval, who was 
expected to arrive from California in the six p.m. 
train from New York that evening. 

The yellow beast hung ,down his big head, put 
out his tongue, shut tight ’his left eye, and started, 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


7 


looking intently at the road with the right eye 
opened wide, as if he had been in the habit of wear- 
ing an eyeglass, which he had just dropped as he 
started. 

Hi ! hi ! hi ! went the crazy buggy, as if following 
the big-headed beast just to laugh at him, but in real- 
ity only squeaking for want of oiling and from great 
old age. 

“ Confound the brute ! He squints and lolls his 
tongue out worse than ever!” exclaimed Mr. Hack- 
well. “ And the rickety vehicle fairly laughs at us ! 
Hear it!” 

Hi ! hi ! creaked the buggy very opportunely. 

“ Look here, Ham, it is your turn to grease the 
wheels now. I greased them last time,” added 
Hackwell. 

“ Greasing the wheels won’t prevent the crazy, di- 
lapidated concern from squeaking and going to pieces, 
any more than your sermons prevent some members 
of your congregation from gossiping and going to the 
devil,” answered Mr. Hammerhard, sententiously. 

“ I wish 1 could send them there in this wagon, — 
all, all, the palsied beast, and the rotten wagon, and 
the penurious Yankees, that won’t give us a decent 
conveyance,” said Mr. Hackwell. 

“All the rich people of our town belong to your 
congregation, — all the rich and the good. Make 
them shell out, Hack; you are the fashion,” Ham- 
merhard observed. 

“ Yes, that is the reason I drive this fashionable 
turn-out. No, they won’t give except it is squeezed 


8 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


out of them. They are so good, you know. My only 
hope is in Dr. Norval.” 

“ Because he is a whetstone?” asked Ham. 

“ Exactly. Because he is the only man who don’t 
pretend to be a saint. Because he is the only one in 
this village who has a soul, but makes no parade of 
the trouble it gives him to save it.” 

“ His virtuous wife and Mrs. Cackle will save his 
soul for him. You would think so if you had heard 
Mrs. Cackle’s conversation to-day with my wife. 

“ The old lady gave us a hash of it well spiced. 
We went over the vast field of Mrs. Norval’s virtues, 
and the vaster one of the doctor’s errors, all of which 
have their root in the doctor’s most unnatural liking 
for foreigners. That liking was the cause of the 
doctor’s sending his only son Julian to be educated in 
Europe, — as if the best schools on earth were not in 
New England, — and Heaven knows what might have 
become of Julian if his heroic mother had not sent 
for him. He might have been a Roman Catholic, for 
all we know. That liking was also the cause of the 
doctor’s sending Isaac to be a good-for-nothing clerk 
in sinful Washington, among foreigners, when he 
could have remained in virtuous New England to be 
a useful farmer. And finally, impelled by that lik- 
ing, the doctor betook himself to California, which is 
yet full of ‘ natives .’ And as a just retribution for such 
perverse liking, the doctor was wellnigh ‘ roasted by 
the natives,’ said the old lady. Whereupon, in be- 
half of truth, I said, ‘ Not by the natives, madam. 
The people called “ the natives ” are mostly of Spanish 


I 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


9 


descent, and are not cannibals. The wild Indians of the 
Colorado River were doubtless the ones who captured 
the doctor and tried to make a meal of him.’ ‘ Per- 
haps so,’ said the old lady, visibly disappointed. ‘ To 
me they are all alike, — Indians, Mexicans, or Califor- 
nians, — they are all horrid. But my son Beau says 
that our just laws and smart lawyers will soon “ freeze 
them out!' That as soon as we take their lands from 
them they will never be heard of any more, and 
then the Americans, with God’s help, will have all 
the land that was so righteously acquired through a 
just war and a most liberal payment in money.’ 
Ain’t that patriotism and Christian faith for you?” 
added Mr. Hackwell. 

“ For yourself, since it comes from one of the pil- 
lars of your congregation,” answered Mr. Hammer- 
hard, laughing, Mr. Hackwell too joining in the 
laugh, and touching up the horse, which tripped 
as he always did when pretending to trot, and the 
quickened motion caused the crazy vehicle to join in 
also with a series of squeaks, which made Mr. Hack- 
well’s blood curdle, and set his teeth on edge, although 
a philosopher. 

Whilst the two divines thus beguiled their way to 
the depot, the subject of their conversation — Mrs. 
Cackle — made hers laboriously towards home, think- 
ing what pretext she could invent to be at Dr. 
Norval’s when he arrived. 

“ I would give worlds to know his version of his 
.conduct. Maybe — like Mr. Hackwell — he won’t 
admit that the native Californians are savages; of 


IO 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


course not, being foreigners. Mrs. Norval, though, 
will soon show him we ain’t to be fooled.” 

Hi ! hi ! hi ! she heard ; and the squint and the 
lolling tongue of the parson’s horse passed by her, 
as if in derisive triumph. 

“The aggravating beast!” exclaimed Mrs. Cackle, 
— meaning the horse, — just as Mr. Hackwell bowed to 
her most politely. “ Going for the doctor ?” said she 
to the divines, as if she thought the turn-out needed 
physic; but the answer was lost in the squeaking of 
the wagon. “ I know they are. I’ll go and let Mrs. 
Norval know it,” said the old lady, and walked 
briskly on. 

Jack Sprig — Miss Lavinia Sprig’s poodle — sat bolt 
upright upon Mrs. Norval’s front doorsteps, watching 
the shadows of coming events whilst supper was cook- 
ing, as Mrs. Cackle came sneaking by the picket-fence. 
Jack was happy, sporting a new blue ribbon around 
his white neck, and the fragrance of broiled chicken 
and roasted turkey came gratefully to his nostrils, 
whilst to his memory came the triumphant recollec- 
tion that he had helped to catch that turkey who was 
now roasting, and who had been his bitter enemy, 
pecking at him unmercifully whenever he dared ven- 
ture into the chicken-yard. Jack wagged his tail, 
thinking the turkey could peck never more, when 
lo ! the round face of Mrs. Cackle, like a red full 
moon in heated atmosphere, peered over the picket- 
fence. Jack’s tail dropped. Then a growl arose to 
his swelling throat. Would that he could put Mrs. 
Cackle beside the turkey ! And who has not felt 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


II 


like Jack? He was a good hater, and ever since he 
could remember there had existed between himself and 
Mrs. Cackle a “ magnetism of repulsion,” of such pe- 
culiar strength that, after going to the very extreme, it 
curled back on itself, and from a repulsion came out 
an attraction, which made Mrs. Cackle’s feet almost 
dance with longing to kick Jack, and made Jack’s 
mouth water to bite the well-fed calves of Mrs. 
Cackle. 

“ There is that miserable poodle, with his wool all 
washed up white, adorned with a new ribbon !” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Cackle, holding to the pickets to catch 
breath, for she had walked fast. “ That old maid 
Lavvy Sprig, I suppose, has decked her thousand cats* 
and her million canary-birds all with ribbons, like 
her odious poodle.” And Mrs. Cackle looked to- 
wards the house ; but she saw no decked cats there, 
though the hall-door and all the windows were 
open. In a few moments, however, she espied 
Ruth Norval — eldest daughter of Dr. Norval — 
sitting by one of the parlor windows, rocking her- 
self in a chair, reading a fashion magazine. 

“There is Ruth, as usual, studying the fashions. 
If her father’s funeral was coming, she would do the 
same,” said Mrs. Cackle, and peered at the other 
window. “ Who is there ?” said she, putting her fat 
chin over the pickets to take a better view. She 
then distinguished a face so flattened against the 
window-pane that it had lost all human shape. But 
she rightly conjectured that the face belonged to 
Mattie Norval, — youngest daughter of Dr. Norval, 


12 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


— inasmuch as Mrs. Norval was too dignified to go 
and mash her face against the window-glass, and 
Lavinia’s high nose would have presented the same 
obstruction as her sister’s dignity. Mrs. Cackle sa- 
luted the flattened mass, but it “ gave no token,” only 
it looked more flattened than ever, as now Mattie 
riveted her gaze more intently in the direction of the 
railroad depot, saying to her sister Ruth, — 

“Don’t look up, Rooty; study the fashions. 
There is old Cackler’s moon-face on the pickets 
saluting, but I don’t see it. ’Deed I don’t. I am 
looking down the road.” 

“ Tell your mother I heard the whistle !” bawled 
out the old lady, holding to the pickets. 

“ I wish she had heard the last trumpet,” said 
Ruth. “ Don’t answer her, Mattie; she wants to be 
invited in. Why don’t she go home ? I see all the 
young Cacklers in their 4 setting-room ,’ — as she very 
properly calls it, — all watching for papa’s coming, to 
begin their cackling.” 

“ Ruth, I have told you not to make puns on 
Mrs. Cackle’s name. It is very unkind to do so, 
and in very bad taste,” said Mrs. Norval, from the 
corner. 

“ In bad taste !” replied Ruth. “ La, ma ! the 
exquisite Mr. Hackwell makes puns all the time. 
I asked him why he kept ‘The Comic Blackstone’ 
among his theological books, and he answered, 
‘ In abjuring all that pertains to the worldly pro- 
fession of the law, I permitted myself the privilege 
of keeping this innocent punster.’ And the ‘ inno- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


13 


cent punster’ Mr. Hackwell the divine keeps between 
Kant and Calvin, — above Martin Luther, ma !” 

“ Here he is !” screamed Mattie, interrupting her 
sister, and all flocked to the window. A light wagon, 
followed by another so heavily loaded that four 
strong horses could hardly pull it up, approached 
the gate. 

“ What upon earth is he bringing now ?” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Norval, looking at the light wagon in 
alarm. 

“ More rocks and pebbles, of course ; but I don’t 
know where he is to put them: the garret is full 
now,” said Ruth, looking at the large wagon. 

“ He will store them away in the barn-loft, where 
he keeps his bones and petrified woods. He brings 
quite a load. It is a government wagon,” added 
Lavinia, also looking at the large wagon. 

“ I don’t mean the boxes in the large wagon. I 
mean the — the — that — the red shawl,” stammered 
Mrs. Norval. And now the three other ladies noticed 
for the first time a figure wrapped in a bright plaid 
shawl, leaning on the doctor’s breast, and around 
which he tenderly encircled his arm. 


14 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER II. 

THE LITTLE BLACK GIRL. 

So astonished were the ladies at the sight of that 
red shawl, that not one of them — not even Mattie, 
who was more impulsive than the others, and had 
looked for her father’s coming with more affectionate 
impatience — thought of answering the doctor’s nods 
and salutations which he began to send them, full of 
smiles, as he approached the gate. 

The light wagon stopped in front of the gate; 
the large one behind it. The Rev. Mr. Hackwell 
alighted, then the Rev. Mr. Hammerhard: the di- 
vines, in consideration for the doctor’s feelings, had 
left their own carriage at the depot and ridden with 
him. The doctor alighted next, and then the mys- 
terious figure in the bright-red shawl, which was 
handed carefully to the doctor by the driver from the 
wagon. Then all proceeded towards the gate, the 
doctor again tenderly throwing his arm around the 
female in the shawl, — for it was a female: this fact 
Mrs. Norval had discovered plainly enough. 

The meeting with his family, after an absence of 
four years, would have been cold and restrained 
enough for the doctor, who had felt nothing but 
misgivings since he passed Springfield, fearing, like 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


T S 

a runaway boy, that even the fact of his return might 
not get him a pardon. Not a single smile of wel- 
come did he see in the scared faces of his daughters 
or the stern features of his stately wife. But a happy 
and unexpected agency broke the spell of that omi- 
nous gloom and scattered the gathering storm. And 
this potent agency, this mighty wizard, waving no 
wand, only wagging his woolly tail, was no other 
than Jack Sprig, who, unable to contain himself any 
longer in the midst of so much excitement, ran out 
as Mrs. Norval’s champion to bark at the red shawl. 
The female screamed, frightened, and clung to the 
doctor for protection ; in her fright she dropped the 
obnoxious shawl, and then all the ladies saw that 
what Mrs. Norval’s eyes had magnified into a very 
tall woman was a little girl very black indeed. 

“ Goodness! what a specimen! A nigger girl!” ex- 
claimed Mattie; whereupon all the ladies laughed 
and went out to the hall to meet the doctor. 

When the first salutations were over, and the first 
cross — very cross — questioning done by Mrs. Norval, 
the doctor ran out to see about bringing in his big 
boxes from the large wagon. They proved to be 
so heavy that besides the drivers of the two wagons, 
and Dandy Jim, — the doctor’s body-servant, — it was 
found necessary to call in BJngham, the gardener; and 
the doctor himself lent the aid of his muscular arms 
to roll the boxes into the hall. Mrs. Norval came 
out to remonstrate against such heavy boxes full of 
stones being brought into the hall to scratch the oil- 
cloth, which was nearly new ; but the doctor would 


IS WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

have them in the hall, so that Mrs. Norval was obliged 
to desist, and the work of rolling in the boxes con- 
tinued. 

Mrs. Norval asked the two reverend gentlemen to 
stay to tea. Mr. Hackwell accepted readily, but Mr. 
Hammerhard declined, as Mrs. Hammerhard’s baby 
was only three weeks old, and she felt lonely with- 
out him. 

Whilst Dr. Norval was busy rolling in his heavy 
boxes, the ladies and the Rev. Mr. Hackwell turned 
their attention to the little black girl, upon whom the 
doctor evidently had bestowed great care, making 
now and then occasional remarks upon the well- 
known idiosyncrasy of the doctor for collecting all 
sorts of rocks. 

“The doctor is not content with bringing four 
boxes more, full of stones ; but now he, I fear, hav- 
ing exhausted the mineral kingdom, is about to begin 
with the animal, and this is our first specimen,” said 
Mrs. Norval, .pointing at the boxes in the hall and at 
the little girl, who was looking at her with a steady, 
thoughtful gaze. 

“ The next specimen will be a baboon,” added 
Ruth ; “ for papa’s samples don’t improve.” 

“ I have been looking at this one, and I think it 
is rather pretty, only very black,” the Rev. Hackwell 
observed. 

“ Of course she is pretty,” put in Mattie. “ Look 
what magnificent eyes she has, and what red and 
prettily-cut lips !” 

“ How could she have such lips ? — negroes’ lips 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


17 


are not like those. What is your name ?” cried out 
Miss Lavinia, as if the child were deaf. 

The girl did not answer : she only turned her lus- 
trous eyes on her, then again riveted her gaze upon 
Mrs. Norval, who seemed to fascinate her. 

“ How black she is !” uttered Mrs. Norval, with a 
slight shiver of disgust. 

“ I don’t think she is so black,” said Mattie, taking 
one of the child’s hands and turning it to see the 
palm of it. “ See, the palm of her hand is as white 
as mine, — and a prettier white; for it has such a 
pretty pink shade to it.” 

“ Drop her hand, Mattie ! you don’t know what 
disease she might have,” said Mrs. Norval, imperi- 
ously. 

“ Nonsense ! As if papa would bring any one with 
a contagious disease to his house !” said Mattie, still 
holding the child’s hand. “ How pretty her little 
hand is, and all her features are certainly lovely! 
See how well cut her nose and lips are ; and as for her 
eyes, I wish / had them : they are perfectly superb !” 

“ Isn’t she pretty ?” exclaimed the doctor, bring- 
ing in the last box. “ And her disposition is so 
lovely and affectionate, and she is so grateful and 
thoughtful for one so young !” 

“ How old is she? Her face is so black that, 
truly, it baffles all my efforts to guess her age,” said 
Mrs. Norval, dryly, interrupting the doctor. 

“ She is only ten years old ; but her history is al- 
ready more romantic than that of half of the heroines 
of your trashy novels,” answered the doctor. 


1 8 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

“ She is a prodigy, then,— a true emanation of the 
black art!” said Mrs. Norval, smiling derisively, “if 
so much is to be told of a child so young.” 

“ Not of her personally, but of her birth and the 
history of her parents, — that is to say, so far as I 
know it.” 

“Who were her parents, papa?” asked Mattie. 

“Indians or negroes, or both,” Ruth said. “Any 
one can see that much of her history.” 

“And those who saw that much would be mistaken 
or fools,” retorted the doctor, warmly. 

“ Well, well, even if she be a Princess Sheba, let 
us not have a discussion about it the minute you 
return home. Suppose we change the subject to a 
more agreeable one,” said Mrs. Norval. 

“ I am perfectly willing,” the doctor replied, draw- 
ing to his side the little girl, who had stood silently 
listening to the conversation, looking wistfully from 
one face to the other. 

“ I suppose you got my letter telling you I had 
sent for Julian? — and now he is in Boston, where 
every New Englander should be educated,” Mrs. Nor- 
val said, boldly. 

“ But where not every New Englander is willing 
to be educated. Julian writes to me that he doesn’t 
like his college,” the doctor replied. 

“ Julian is perfectly ruined by his unfortunate trip 
to Europe,” said Mrs. Norval, addressing Mr. Hack- 
well, “ and, like Isaac, he will never get over his 
fondness for foreigners.” 

Happily, Hannah, the waiter-girl, came to inter- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


19 


rupt the conversation by announcing that tea was 
ready. 

“ Take this child to the kitchen,” said Mrs. Norval 
to Hannah, pointing to the little girl. 

“ What for ? She is very well here,” the doctor 
said, putting his arms around the child’s waist. 

“ Doctor, you certainly do not mean that we are to 
keep this creature always near us, — you can’t mean 
it !” exclaimed Mrs. Norval, half interrogatively and 
half deprecatingly. 

“ And why not ?” was the doctor’s rejoinder. 

Mrs. Norval was too astounded to say why not. 
She silently led the way to the tea-table. 

“ I beg you to remember, Mr. Hackwell,” said the 
doctor, following his wife and holding the poor little 
girl by the hand, “ and to draw from that fact a 
moral for a sermon, that my wife is a lady of the 
strictest Garrisonian school, a devout follower of 
Wendell Phillips’s teachings, and a most enthusiastic 
admirer of Mr. Sumner. Compare these facts with 
the reception she gives this poor little orphan be- 
cause her skin is dark; whilst I, — a good-for- 
nothing Democrat, who don’t believe in Sambo, but 
believe in Christian charity and human mercy, — I 
feel pity for the little thing.” 


20 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER III. 

THE MYSTERIOUS BIG BOXES. 

“Where is the child to eat her supper ?” asked 
Mrs. Norval of her husband, without making any 
answer to his last remarks. 

“ Here by my side, of course,” the doctor replied. 

“ I am glad you have abjured your old prejudices 
against the African race,” said Mr. Hackwell, with- 
out making allusion to Mrs. Norval’s sentiments upon 
the subject. 

“Yes; but the evil spirit has not left our house, 
for it has only jumped out of me to take possession 
of my better half,” said the doctor, laughing. “ Since 
when have you changed, wife, that a dark skin has 
become so objectionable to you ?” 

“ As for that, you are mistaken. I do not object 
to her dark skin, only I wish to know what position 
she is to occupy in my family. Which wish I con- 
sider quite reasonable, since I am the one to regulate 
my household,” said Mrs. Norval,. taking hold of the 
teapot to serve tea, but with a look that suggested a 
wish on her part to welcome her husband by throw- 
ing it at his devoted head. 

“ Her position in our family will be that of an 
adopted child,” said the doctor. 

Mrs. Norval’s hand shook so violently on hearing 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


21 


this that she poured the tea all over the tray, but little 
of it falling in the cup where she meant to pour it. 
With assumed calmness, however, she said, — 

“ In that case your daughters and myself will have 
to wait upon your adopted child ; for I am sure we 
will not find in all New England a white girl willing 
to do it.” 

“ And that, of course, speaks very highly for New 
England, — abolitionist New England, mind you. But 
I’ll warrant, madam, that you shall have plenty of 
servants.” 

Mrs. Norval was too angry to speak. There was 
an awkward pause, which happily Mattie interrupted, 
saying,— 

“ Has she got any name, papa ?” 

“ I suppose her name is Rabbit, or Hare, or Squir- 
rel ; that is, if she is an Indian,” said Ruth, laughing. 

“ You ask her,” the doctor said. 

“ What is your name ?” asked Ruth. 

The child looked at her, then at the doctor, and 
went on eating her supper silently. 

“ She doesn’t understand,” said Ruth. 

“ Yes, she does; but, not liking your manner, she 
disdains to answer your question,” replied the doctor. 

Mrs. Norval suppressed a groan. She could not 
swallow a single mouthful. 

“ Indians are as proud and surly as they are treach- 
erous,” observed Lavinia. “ I suppose she is a mix- 
ture of Indian and negro.” 

“ Your supposition, being very sagacious and kind, 
does honor to your head and heart; but it happens 


22 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


that this child has no more Indian or negro blood 
than you or I have,” said the doctor, testily, evidently 
losing patience. 

“ I thought she might be Aztec,” said Lavinia, 
apologetically ; but the doctor did not answer her, 
and there was another awkward silence. 

Mr. Hackwell was sorry he had stayed* to tea. 
He had anticipated a very pleasant conversation, 
and amusing accounts from the doctor, who was 
very witty and told a story charmingly. But instead 
of this there had been nothing but sparring about the 
little black child. Mrs. Norval had utterly lost pa- 
tience, and the doctor seemed in a fair way to the 
same point. Mr. Hackwell stirred his second cup of 
tea slowly, thinking what he should do to change the 
conversation. He would first propitiate the doctor 
by showing some kindness to the child. How should 
he begin ? He took a slice of bread and buttered it 
nicely ; then he took some jelly, and spread it on the 
butter, and presented it to the child with a smile. 

“ Thank you, sir,” said the little girl, in very good 
English. 

“ Why, the little ’possum ! She speaks English, 
and very likely has understood what has been said,” 
Mattie exclaimed. 

“She has understood every word,” the doctor 
answered, “and doubtless is impressed with your 
kindness.” 

“ That is a pity,” said Mr. Hackwell ; and, address- 
ing the child in his blandest manner, he asked, “ What 
is your name, my little girl ? Won’t you tell me ?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


23 


" My name is Maria Dolores Medina ; but I have 
been always called Lola or Lolita,” she answered, in 
the plainest English. 

“ And have you understood all we said since you 
arrived ?” asked Mattie. 

Lola nodded her head in the affirmative, and stole 
a furtive look toward Mrs. Norval, which was very 
piquant. The doctor and Mr. Hackwell laughed, 
and so did Mattie; but, as Mrs. Norval colored with 
vexation, Lavinia did not dare to join in the laugh, 
whilst Ruth was too deeply absorbed in thinking 
how she could fix her old grenadine dress to give 
it a new look for the christening of Mrs. Hammer- 
hard’s baby. 

As soon as tea was over, the doctor called Bing- 
ham, the gardener, and asked him if he had found 
the men to help with the boxes, to which Bingham 
answered in the affirmative. The doctor then told 
him to go and fetch them. 

“ What is the matter now?” exclaimed Mrs. Nor- 
val, seeing seven men enter the hall, preceded by 
Bingham, and followed by the doctor’s body-servant, 
Dandy Jim. 

“ The matter is, that these men have come to take 
my boxes up-stairs,” said the doctor. “Put them 
in Master Julian’s room, Jim.” 

“ Why not take them at once to the garret ? In 
Julian’s room they will tear the carpet to pieces,” 
Mrs. Norval remonstrated. 

“ We’ll risk that. I don’t want to take my speci- 
mens to the garret until I assort them. Besides, the 


24 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


boxes are too broad to go up the narrow staircase of 
the garret-rooms.” r> 

“ Then why not leave them where they are ? After- 
wards you can assort your specimens down here.” 

“ Because I propose to do that up-stairs.” 

Mrs. Norval bit her lip. She could almost have 
cried with vexation. The doctor was more persistent 
than ever in foolish whims. What a miserable wife 
she was ! But now Mr. Hackwell said some kind 
words to her, praising her great forbearance and 
amiability under so many exasperating trials, then, 
pressing her hand to bid her good-night, took leave 
of the doctor in the hall, where he was superintend- 
ing the moving of his boxes, bowed good-night to 
the young ladies, and left. 

Lavinia sighed, watching his retreating form, and 
Ruth smiled contemptuously, whilst Miss Mattie stood 
up and made a motion with her foot as if giving a 
kick to some imaginary object before her. 

“ For shame ! you are no longer a child, miss, to 
indulge in such ujilady-like antics !” said Mrs. Norval, 
sternly. But the doctor laughed, and patted Mattie 
on the back ; and Mattie hung on her father’s neck 
and whispered something which made him laugh 
more. 

After all the boxes were safely deposited in Julian’s 
room — which adjoined Mrs. Norval’s bed-chamber — 
there was one more discussion to get through, and 
that was the most difficult to dispose of. The ques- 
tion as to where Lola was to sleep, had to be decided. 

The doctor said she should have a room to her- 


WHO WOULD HAV& THOUGHT IT ? 


2 5 


self, and, as there was none ready for her, she should 
occupy either Julian’s room or share that of the 
girls with them: Lavinia’s being too small to admit 
another bed. 

But Mrs. Norval was so shocked at this that the 
doctor, tired as he was in body by his journey, and 
in mind by all the harassing little incidents and dis- 
putes which had occurred since his arrival, left the 
matter for that night to his wife’s discretion. The 
child, then, was sent with Hannah to share her room 
for the night. 

The doctor kissed Lola several times and embraced 
her to bid her good-night, and she, sobbing as if her 
heart would break, and looking back several times 
as she left the room, went away to sleep the sleep of 
the orphan under that inhospitable roof. 


CHAPTER IV. 

WHAT THE MYSTERIOUS BOXES CONTAINED. 

“ Don’t you know, doctor, that you kissed that 
Indian child more affectionately than you kissed your 
own daughters ?” said Mrs. Norval to her husband, 
fiercely, when they had closed their bedroom door 
to the outer world. 

“ Maybe I did ; for I pity the poor orphan. My 
daughters, thank God, have yet their parents to take 
b 3 


2 6 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


care of them ; but this poor little waif has no one in 
the world, perhaps, to protect her and care for her 
but myself.” 

“ As for that, she’ll get along well enough. She is 
not so timid as to need anybody’s particular protec- 
tion. Her eyes are bold enough. She will learn to 
work, — I’ll see to that, — and a good worker is sure 
of a home in New England. Mrs. Hammerhard will 
want just such a girl as this, I hope, to mind the baby, 
and she will give her some of her cast-off clothes and 
her victuals.” 

“Cast-off clothes and victuals!” the doctor re- 
peated, as if he could not believe that his ears had 
heard rightly. 

“ Why, yes. We certainly couldn’t expect Mrs. 
Hammerhard would give more to a girl ten years 
old, to mind a little baby in the cradle.” 

“And how is she to go to school, if she is to mind 
Mrs. Hammerhard’s baby for old clothes and cold 
victuals ?” 

“ Doctor,” said Mrs. Norval, tying her night-cap 
with deliberation, “ I said nothing about cold victuals. 
She can eat her victuals cold or warm, just as she 
likes : this is a free country. But I do say this, that 
this is the first day I have laid eyes on you for four 
years (you left in ’53, and now we are in ’57), and I 
think it is very hard that this first day we should 
have so many disagreeables about a stranger, and 
that an Indian child. I’ll do the best I can for her : 
I shall do my duty as a Christian woman ; but she 
can’t expect to grow up in idleness and be a burden 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


27 


to us. She must learn to work and earn her living. 
In the winters, perhaps, she might go to school at 
nights ; I’ll see what I can do about that. She will 
go to our Sunday-school, of course; but ” 

“She will go to Sunday-school if any one will 
teach her the Catholic Catechism, but certainly not 
the Presbyterian,” said the doctor, pulling his coat off, 
as if making ready to fight on that point; “ and as for 
her learning to work, she will learn to do what ladies 
learn, and she will suit herself in that, when she has 
finished her education.” 

“ Finish her education ! A Catholic Catechism !” 
faintly echoed Mrs. Norval, letting her cap-strings go, 
and sinking into her arm-chair. 

The doctor, in his shirt-sleeves, crossed his arms 
over his breast, and, standing before his wife, also 
repeated, — 

“Finish her education, Mrs. Norval; yes, and a 
Catholic Catechism. I said those words, Mrs. Norval; 
and I mean them, too, madam.” 

A contemptuous smile played around the pale lips 
of the agitated Mrs. Norval, as she said, — 

“And pray who is to teach her that abominable 
idolatry here ? and who is to pay for her magnifi- 
cent education ? for I suppose she must have several 
masters to teach her foreign languages, and music, 
and painting.” 

The doctor nodded his head in the affirmative, en- 
tirely disregarding his wife’s sarcasm, and, taking a 
bunch of keys from his pocket, said, — 

“ If you will follow me, madam, I’ll show you with 


28 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


what Lola’s education is to be paid.” And the 
doctor, taking a candle, led the way to Julian’s room. 
Mrs. Norval followed her husband, not knowing 
but that he had gone crazy and meant to set the 
house on fire with the lighted candle he carried. 

The doctor set the candle on the bureau, and Mrs. 
Norval seated herself on a chair, silently waiting to 
see what he would do next. 

The doctor selected a key from the bunch he held 
in his hand, and opened a trunk, from which he took a 
screw-driver. Then he went to one of the heavy 
boxes, brought with so much labor, and began to 
unscrew from the lid several large screws, saying, — 

“Arthur Sinclair is to blame for these boxes 
taking this trip up to New England. I told him 
distinctly that I wished them to be left at his brother’s 
in New York; and he must, of course, go to work 
and ship them by express all the way here. When 
I went to William Sinclair’s office to see if the boxes 
were there, he told me they had been shipped that 
morning. I went to the depot to stop their coming 
up ; but only two boxes had not been put into the 
baggage-car, and those I sent back to Sinclair’s. 
The other four came up; and now I shall have to 
take them back.” 

“ So you were bringing six boxes full of rocks?” 

“ But only to New York.” 

Now the doctor took out the last screw, opened 
the box with the key, and began by taking out some 
articles of clothing. Mrs. Norval smiled. Then he 
came to some specimens of ores, very rough-looking 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


2 9 


stones. He lifted a piece of canvas, on which 
these rough stones were laid, and said to his 
wife, — 

“ This is what will pay for Lola’s education.” 

Mrs. Norval stood up, uttering a cry of delighted 
surprise ; then, clasping her hands, remained silent, 
with open mouth and staring eyes, transfixed by her 
amazement and joy. 

“ But is it real gold ?” she whispered, hoarsely, 
after some moments of bewildered silence. 

“All is not gold that glitters,” the doctor replied, 
smiling ; “ but this is.” 

“ And whose is it ? Ours? Yours? Whose?” 

“ Don’t you guess ? If I say it will pay for Lo- 
lita’s education, it is because it belongs to her.” 

“What?” ejaculated Mrs. Norval, falling back in 
her chair. “You are jesting; you can’t mean that. 
No, no! I can’t believe that this horrible little negro 
girl ” 

“ Once for all, let me tell you that the blood of 
that child is as good as, or better than, yours or mine ; 
that she is neither an Indian nor a negro child, and 
that, unless you wish to doubt my word, my veracity, 
you will not permit yourself or anybody else to 
think her such.” 

Mrs. Norval was incapable of controversy now; 
her soul was floating over those yellow, shining 
lumps of cold, unfeeling metal. She made no reply 
to her husband ; but, as if obeying a natural impulse, 
she knelt by the chest, and, with childlike sim- 
plicity, began to take pieces of gold and examine 
3 * 


30 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


them attentively and toss them up playfully; then 
she took a handful, then two handfuls, trying to see 
how many pieces she could lift up. The sedate, 
severe, sober, serious lady of forty was a playful, 
laughing child again. 

The doctor watched her and smiled, but his smile 
was sad. He had not seen that expression on her 
face since they were gathering apples and he asked 
her to marry him, twenty-one years ago ! 

“ I think that Lola, instead of being a burden to us, 
will be a great acquisition. Don’t you think so?” 
said the doctor, after his wife had toyed with the 
gold for some time. 

“How much is it?” asked Mrs^Norval, in a scarcely 
audible voice, tremulous with emotion. 

“ I really can’t tell how much is in this one box, 
but, according to our calculation in San Francisco, 
there must be about a million dollars in the six 
boxes.” 

“A million !” screamed Mrs. Norval. 

“Hush, wife! If you indulge in such loud ex- 
clamations, some one will hear you ; and I don’t want 
it to be known that there is so much gold in my 
house. I shall certainly send it back to New York 
as soon as possible.” 

“ But what will you do with so much gold ? 
Won’t they steal it from you ?” 

“ I’ll look out for that. William Sinclair is an 
honest man, and he will take charge of it. I ar- 
ranged all that with him. He is to have the gold 
coined immediately, and will take it for three years 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? gi 

at six per cent, interest, giving me good securities on 
real estate.” 

“ But the child doesn’t want sixty thousand dollars 
a year,” said Mrs. Norval, deprecatingly, as if speak- 
ing to the gold, and in a timid, plaintive voice, — she 
was so subdued, so humbled, before the yellow god ! 


CHAPTER V. 

THE ROUGH PEBBLES. 

" No, Lola doesn’t want sixty thousand dollars a 
year, nor the fifth of that,” said the doctor; “but 
what we don’t spend on her we will invest in real 
estate, or stocks, or anything else that Sinclair thinks 
advisable, so that by the time the little girl is twenty, 
she will be very rich, and people wouldn’t call her 
Indian or nigger even if she were, which she is not!' 

“ I am glad she is not, because — because — if she 
be of decent people, then — why — then, of course, a 
decent man would marry her.” 

“Just so; and she will be beautiful, as that black 
skin will certainly wear off,” said the doctor, busily 
putting back in the box the things he had got out of 
it, and beginning to screw the lid down as it was 
before. 

“Have you thought that 'Julian or brother Isaac 
might take a fancy to Lola ? and ” 

“ No. I am the last man to plot matrimony ; and, 


32 


WHO WO OLD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


take my advice, you let it alone too. No good 
comes of that kind of managing.” 

“ You have not told me how you came across this 
child and her gold,” said Mrs. Norval, as they walked 
back to their bedroom again. 

“ Her mother deposited both under my care, as 
the poor lady died on the banks of the Gila River.” 

“ But what was such a rich woman doing there ? 
Why did she leave her child and gold with you? 
Had she no husband or relations ? How came she 
to die in that wild country among savages ?” 

“ Well, the poor lady’s story is a long one, and 
unless you let me smoke my pipe while telling it to 
you, we’ll have to put it off until to-morrow ; and 
now let us go to sleep.” 

Mrs. Norval allowed the pipe ; though very ob- 
noxious, it was better than to go to bed and not be 
able to sleep thinking about the probable history of 
such a rich woman. 

Whilst filling his pipe, the doctor prefaced his 
recital by saying, — 

“ I am very sorry I could not bring with me the 
narrative in writing in the very words of Lolita’s 
mother herself, as Lebrun wrote it in short-hand. 
The poor lady knew well that she would soon die, 
and begged that I should make a memorandum of 
what she was going to tell me, so that I could let her 
husband know it if I ever found him. I called Lebrun 
to the bedside of the poor lady ; and, as Lebrun is a 
stenographer, he took in short-hand all she said,' and 
will soon send me the manuscript, when he puts it 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


33 


all in plain English. So, about the previous history 
of the lady I don’t know much, except how she got 
the gold and the diamonds little by little, and ” 

“What diamonds?” interrupted Mrs. Norval, 
eagerly. “What do you mean? You have not 
mentioned diamonds to me.” 

“ No ; nor the emeralds and rubies I have not,” 
said the doctor, with provoking nonchalance, light- 
ing his pipe leisurely and puffing the smoke at long 
intervals. “ I had not mentioned the” — pilff, puff — 
“diamonds and emeralds and opals;” — puff, puff — 
“I hadn’t got to that” — puff, puff — “point in my 
story. The poor lady did not give them to me 
until the day she died, — after we had sent off the 
gold, and after she told us how she was carried off 
by the Apache Indians, and then sold to the Mohave 
Indians, and how Lolita was born five months after 
her capture. So you see how Lolita’s blood is pure 
Spanish blood, her mother being of pure Spanish 
descent and her father the same, though an Austrian 
by birth, he having been born in Vienna. These 
particulars I remember well, as Lebrun and I thought 
them so very strange, and the fate of so highly-born 
a lady so sadly unfortunate.” 

“ But how did she keep the diamonds and save so 
much gold all this time ?” asked Mrs. Norval, intent 
upon her own thoughts, and caring very little for 
the sad fate of any woman just then. “Where are 
the diamonds ? Let me see them, before you go on 
with your narrative.” 

The doctor, again taking the bunch of keys from 

B* 


34 


WHO WOULD HAVE * THOUGHT IT?. 


his pocket, went to his traveling-trunk, and, opening 
it, took out a buckskin bag, and from it a piece of 
cloth in which were tied a number of pebbles of 
nearly uniform size. He spread the pebbles on the 
table, and said to his wife, — 

“ Here they are; and I can pick you out each of 
the different stones by the color showing through 
those little places where the rough coating is rubbed 
off.” 

Great disappointment was depicted in Mrs. Nor- 
val’s face as she saw those rough pebbles spread 
before her eager eyes. She was unable to withhold 
the expression of her contempt. She exclaimed, — 

“ Pshaw, doctor ! These can’t be real diamonds. 
They must be what they call ‘ California diamonds,’ 
which are a sort of bright pebble, but no diamond.” 

“ I flatter myself, wife, that I am a pretty good judge 
of precious stones, though I am no jeweler; and I 
tell you these are splendid gems, in size and in quality. 
The poor lady was no fool, and she made her selec- 
tion quite as judiciously as could be done by the 
best judge of gems. She had some diamond rings 
on her fingers when she was captured, and with those 
rings, she told me, she managed to scratch the sur- 
face of these rough pebbles and ascertain that they 
were diamonds. Accidentally, whilst bathing in a 
small stream which is tributary to the Colorado River, 
she saw a very bright, shining pebble. She picked 
it up, and, as she had some knowledge of precious 
stones, she saw it was a large diamond, though 
only partly divested of its rough coating. Then she 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


35 


looked about for similar pebbles, and found many 
more. Afterwards she followed the little rivulet 
from which they seemed to come down, and, follow- 
ing it, was led up to the side of a hill and down a 
ravine, where, as if they had been washed thither by 
the rains, she found opals and larger diamonds. 
Afterwards the Indians brought her emeralds and 
rubies, seeing that she liked pretty pebbles. Thus 
she made a fine collection, for she took only the 
largest and those which seemed to her most perfect.” 

Mrs. Norval now condescended to examine the 
pebbles. Yes, they all showed shining spots, — more 
or less bright, more or less large, — and the places 
where the poor captive had scratched them with her 
ring. On further examination, Mrs. Norval discov- 
ered larger spots of light, which showed that most 
of the pebbles had been rubbed hard against each 
other, as the bright spots corresponded in size and 
shape. The same was the case with the emeralds. 
No, there was no doubt in Mrs. Norval’s mind; they 
must be real gems ; and yet she frowned. Then she 
said, — 

“ And these diamonds also belong to the little 
nig — I mean the little girl ?” 

“ Of course they do. To whom should they be- 
long but to Lola?” 

“ Didn’t her mother give you anything for taking 
charge of her daughter for life?” 


3 ^ 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER VI. 

LOLA COMMENCES HER EDUCATION. 

“The mother did not leave the child with me for 
life. She wished me to take care of Lola whilst I 
make inquiries about her family. When Lebrun 
sends me the manuscript of her narrative, I shall 
know the names of her relatives and where to look 
for them. In the mean time, my duty is to take care 
of Lolita, send her to school, or have her taught at 
home, and invest her money judiciously.” 

The face of Mrs. Norval fell. All this glittering 
fortune which she — vaguely as to the way, but 
clearly as to the intent — had resolved to share, — all 
this brilliant fortune might leave her house too 
soon for her to mature any plan to participate in 
it. The despised black child she now would give 
worlds to keep. She would go on her knees to 
serve her, as her. servant, her slave, rather than let 
her go. Oh, if Lebrun only would keep that manu- 
script forever! Yes, so that the doctor would not 
be able to find her relations and Lola remain with 
them ! Thus ran the thoughts of the high-prin- 
cipled matron; but never once did it occur to her 
that she had sent the child to sleep with the cook 
and the chambermaid, and she did not know that 
the little girl was now crying as if her heart were 
breaking, calling her mother between sobs, sitting 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


3 7 


up in a dark room, and with the snoring of the 
two Irishwomen for sole response to her impassioned 
apostrophes. Lola had refused to share the bed of 
either of the two servants, and both had resented the 
refusal as a most grievous insult. 

“ I am shure I don’t want to slape with any of the 
likes of ye, naither. Niggers ain’t my most particliest 
admirashun, I can tell ye, no more nor toads nor 
cateypillars. Haith! I think, on the whole, I prefer 
the cateypillars, as a more dacent sort of a baste,” 
said cook, giving Lola a withering look. Then, 
with the dexterity of a conjurer, she gave a pull 
to certain strings about her stomach, whereupon 
the whole structure of her apparel came tumbling 
down magically, to Lola’s great astonishment, who 
had no idea but what that hoop-skirt was part of 
cook’s mortal coil. 

With dilated orbs, Lola gazed upon the fallen hoop 
and skirts, then upon that figure clad in an inner 
garment (which hardly reached to the corrugated 
knee), standing in the centre of the circle like a 
stubby column in the middle of a blackened ruin. 
Cook, being a good Catholic and a lady of spirit, 
crossed herself earnestly but hurriedly, shook her 
fist threateningly at Lola, and bolted into bed, leav- 
ing behind, in the middle of her hoop -skirt, a pair of 
shapeless shoes, like two dead crows, and carrying 
with her to bed a pair of stockings which had been 
blue, but now were black, and had the privilege of 
ascending to her ankles, where they modestly coiled 
themselves in two black rings, and went no farther. 

4 


38 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Hannah, the chambermaid, was not so repulsive to 
look upon ; still, the thought of sharing her bed was 
to Lola very terrible. Trembling with fear of giving 
yet more offense to the sensitive Irish ladies, the 
poor child timidly asked them if they could spare 
for that night a blanket and a pillow, to go to sleep 
by herself on the floor. 

“ I knew that. I knew she would like the floor 
much better. She ain’t used to a nice, dacent bed, — 
that is the nature of her !” said the indignant cook. 

Hannah gave Lola a blackened pillow, but told her 
she could not spare a blanket. Lola said her shawl 
would do, and Hannah put out the candle. Then the 
two offended ladies began their nasal duo, and Lola 
her heart-breaking laments. The louder the Irish- 
women snored, the more terrified Lola felt at the 
darkness and silence beyond that discordant noise, 
until, almost frantic with terror and desolation, and 
almost stifling with the foulness of the air, the child, 
trembling with fear, staggered out of the room and 
went to lie in the hall, — anywhere, only as far from 
the Irishwomen as possible. She groped her way 
along the hall until she felt a door, and at her feet 
a carpet : it was the mat before Mrs. Norval’s door. 
Suppressing her sobs, Lola lay down on the mat, 
quietly wrapping her shawl around her shivering 
body. Jack was lying at Miss Lavinia’s door, and 
kindly came to nestle at her side, wagging his tail 
apologetically, as if not sure that Lola would appre- 
ciate his feelings. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT / 


39 

Seeing that his wife made no observation after his 
last remarks, the doctor continued, saying, — 

“Yes, my first care must be to invest the gold; 
then I’ll see to the cutting of the stones. It seems 
to me they will make more jewelry than Lola wants : 
I might sell part of them.” 

“ Of course you ought to sell the greater part of 
them. It will only make the child vain to have so 
much jewelry. She doesn’t want them,” said Mrs. 
Norval, warmly; for she had already begun to form 
a little plan to buy cheap some of these rough peb- 
bles, with the gold she meant to take out of the 
boxes for her husband’s services. For, Mrs. Norval 
argued to herself, if the doctor was foolish enough to 
take so much trouble and care for a strange child, 
for no pay, she did not mean he should. She meant 
that his services should be well paid. He had a 
family which he had left for four years ; and whilst 
he was looking after the interests of this strange 
child, of course he ought to be paid, and must be 
paid. 

“ No,” the doctor said, and Mrs. Norval started, as 
if he had read and was answering her thoughts, — 
“ no, I can’t sell the gems, for I remember now that 
the poor lady repeated that all , all should be made 
into jewelry for Lola, as the gold would be enough 
to support her until her father was found, and who, 
being rich, will not want Lola’s gold, — so she said 
several times.” 

“ She did not know the gold was a million dol- 
lars ?” 


40 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“No; she had collected it gradually, but she had 
no idea how much it was. She was only anxious 
that there should be enough for Lola’s expenses and 
education, until her father was found,” said the doc- 
tor. But he did not say that Lola’s mother had told 
him to take half of the gold for his services. 

“And didn’t she give you anything for your 
trouble and your kindness to herself and her child ?” 
inquired Mrs. Norval again. 

“ Indeed she did pay me royally, like a noble 
woman that she was. I have yet about ten thou- 
sand dollars’ worth of the prettiest gold nuggets ever 
found, besides five thousand I left in Sinclair’s bank, 
and all I spent in California, after paying all my 
debts.” 

“ And you consider that a sufficient remuneration 
for all that we are to do, besides what you have 
already done for them ?” asked Mrs. Norval, a slight 
sneer curling her lip. 

“ Of course I do. She must have given me some- 
thing over thirty thousand dollars. Besides, in using 
Lola’s money, of course we can derive a great many 
advantages, for I don’t mean to stint the income, 
only I shall take mighty good care of the principal.” 

Mrs. Norval’s eyes brightened. The doctor added, — 

“ And, as a matter of course, all the surplus income 
shall be well invested. The expenses of the child 
can’t be very great, no matter how extravagant we 
choose to be. Her income will be mostly turned 
into capital.” 

His wife gave him a withering look of wrath and 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


41 

contempt. How stupidly, how provokingly honest 
that man was ! His wife almost hated him for it. 

“ But now it is getting late, Jemima. I must hurry 
with my narrative, for I am tired with traveling all 
day,” said the doctor, unconscious of his wife’s 
unuttered, unutterable wrath. “ Where was I ? I 
forget how much I have told you about that poor 
lady’s story. Let me see. I think I shall have to 
fill up my pipe again to finish my tale, which, as I 
said, is not very long, for I trusted to Lebrun’s man- 
uscript to refresh my memory.” 

Mrs. Norval scarcely listened. She made no an- 
swer. Her whole soul was oscillating between the 
bundle of rough pebbles and the box containing the 
yellow nuggets. What should she do ? Who could 
help her to execute a plan to stop her husband from 
taking the gold away, or in some way to get hold 
of it ? Ah! a bright thought ! The image of the Rev. 
Hackwell presented itself. Yes, he was “smart” 
and — and — honest. The thought of Mrs. Norval 
stammered at the word honest. 

“ Well, here is my pipe filled again; but I must 
hurry, for it is past twelve,” said the doctor, sitting 
by his wife to resume his narrative. 


42 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER VII. 
lola’s mother. 

“ Let me see,” said the doctor, looking at the 
clouds of smoke which, for the first time in the 
twenty-one years of Mrs. Norval’s married life, floated 
in her bed-chamber, such is gold’s power. “We 
were on our way down the Colorado River, intending 
to follow its course to its junction with the Gila, or 
perhaps to the Gulf of California, and we had en- 
camped to take a two days’ rest, when we were sur- 
rounded by a large party of Indians. We took our 
arms, and got together to make fight, if necessary, 
but it was not. The rascally Indians had had enough 
of shooting just then. They were returning from a 
fight with an emigrant train and some government 
troops. The chief and two of his sons were badly 
wounded, and perhaps would have died if my medi- 
cine-chest and my surgical instruments hadn’t been 
so good. The village of the Indians — called ran- 
cheria — was only about a mile from our camp, and 
the chief told me he wished to send for his wife 
and daughter, and remain in my camp with his two 
sons, that I might attend to their wounds. I gave 
the three wounded Indians my tent, and went to 
share Sinclair’s with him. That same evening, after 
I had dressed the wounds of the chief and his two 
sons, and was yet busy attending to other warriors 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


43 


who had been winged, Lola and her mother came, 
accompanied by an Indian woman. The chief told 
me in broken Spanish, which he and I spoke about 
alike, that ‘Euitelhap’ — pointing to Lola’s mother 
— was his wife, and had come to take care of him ; 
and said to her, ‘ Na. Hala, this is the good man 
doctor who is going to cure me and my sons, and 
has already relieved us.’ The ha Hala looked at 
me with a pair of large, mournful eyes, but made no 
answer. She evidently did not feel veiy enthusiastic 
on the subject of the chief’s recovery. The chief, 
however, seemed to feel the greatest respect for the 
ha Hala (which, in the language^ of these Indians, 
means my lady), and all the Indians the same, obeying 
her slightest wish. A day or two after/ when the 
wounded Indians were taking their mid-day siesta, 
the ha Hala, feeling better acquainted, asked me 
if she could trust me with a secret, and begged me 
to do her a favor, for the love of God, and for 
humanity’s sake. I answered I would do what I 
could. Then she told me that her name was Doha 
Theresa Medina, that she had been carried away 
from Sonora, in Mexico, ten years ago, and she had 
never had an opportunity to escape until now ; that 
she had made an oath to the chief not to try to escape, 
because in that way he would relax his vigilance, and 
she be enabled to send her little girl away. I told her 
that she ought to try to regain her liberty, that her 
oath to the chief could not be binding. She insisted 
that it was, for she had voluntarily made it ; that she 
did not wish to see her family now, after ten years of 


44 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


such life as had been forced upon her ; that she only- 
wished to save her daughter from a similar fate, and 
then to lie down and die. She said also that she 
would pay me well if I would take her child away and 
care for her until I found her family (she told me the 
name of the place where her family lived in Mexico, 
but I have forgotten it), and that I must promise to 
try to find Lola’s father. This, of course, I prom- 
ised her. Then she told me that she had ‘ enough 
gold to fill up those boxes’ (pointing to our mess 
and provision chests), which she would put under my 
care for Lola, and for me to pay myself for my trouble ; 
that she had the gold in a little ravine not far from 
the spot where our camp was pitched. At first I 
could hardly believe what she said ; but she did not 
let me doubt long. That same night she brought me 
a buckskin bag, which she could hardly carry, full 
of gold nuggets, and gave them to me, saying she 
would give me as many more as I wanted if I only 
would take her child away from among savages and 
bring her up as a Christian, and educate her myself 
in case I should not be able to find her father. 

“ Sinclair and Lebrun had gone down the river on a 
sort of reconnoissance, and would not be back for 
a week. So I told the lady that when my compan- 
ions returned we would make the necessary arrange- 
ments to carry Lola away, and the gold she wished to 
give her, and that she must keep quiet in the mean 
time. But she was too anxious to wait. Every night, 
accompanied by her Indian woman, she made four 
or five trips to the little ravine where she kept her 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


45 


treasure. By the time Sinclair and Lebrun returned, 
she had transferred nearly half of it, and she and I had 
packed two of our chests full of gold nuggets, leaving 
room only to put some specimens of ores and pieces 
of quartz on the top. As soon as Sinclair and Lebrun 
came, I took them aside and asked them if they were 
willing to discontinue our expedition for the present, 
and make ten thousand dollars each clear of expenses. 
They said yes, particularly as we were obliged to 
stop for awhile on account of the freshets. Then I 
pledged them to secrecy, and told them what Lola’s 
mother had said to me, and of my promise to carry 
the child away. 

“The Indian chief, as well as his two sons, was fast 
convalescing, and it was advisable to hasten our de- 
parture before they were strong enough to give us 
trouble, whilst Doha Theresa herself was visibly de- 
clining in health, and daily becoming more weak 
and emaciated. The prospect of being forever sepa- 
rated from her child was rapidly killing her, and she 
knew it full well. But such was the self-sacrificing 
devotion of that lady, that sick and weak as she felt, 
with a sinking heart and no hope for herself, she 
never swerved from her purpose to set her child free, 
and then, literally, lie down and die. 

“The day fixed for our departure came. We 
had thrown away, unknown to our escort, at night, 
when everybody was asleep, the greater part of our 
specimens, — breaking from each, to keep, a small piece, 
— to make room for the gold. We packed it all in two 
of our wagons, putting some ores and other traps 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


46 

which we had used in our expedition on the top of 
the gold, and then we were ready to start. 

“ I told the chief that, as he was on a fair way to 
get well, and both of his sons the same, I would now 
go on my journey down the river ; that I would leave 
him my tent, where he could stay three or four days 
longer, if he wished. He begged me to remain 
a few days longer, as he was afraid that ha Hala was 
very sick. I told him I would see the ha Hala and 
ascertain whether she required my services. 

“ That night, about midnight, Sinclair started with 
the gold and Lola, and all otfr escort, leaving only 
Lebrun and Jim with me to follow next morning on 
horseback. 

“ When it was scarcely daylight, the Indian woman 
so devoted to Doha Theresa came to tell me that 
her mistress had ‘ lain down to die/ and wished to see 
me ; that they had both gone with Lola part of the 
way, and when the ha Hala felt that she had no 
strength to go farther, they returned, and had just 
arrived. 

“ In a miserable Indian hut lay the dying lady. 
The surroundings were cheerless enough to kill any 
civilized woman, but the bedclothes, I noticed, were 
as white as snow, and everything about her was clean 
and tidy. She smiled when she saw me, and said, 
‘ Thank God, Lolita is away from those horrid sav- 
ages! Please do not forget that she must be bap- 
tized and brought up a Roman Catholic/ Her voice 
failed her, and she made a sign that she wished to 
sit up. We raised her, and, after drinking a little 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


47 


wine I gave her, she said she would like me to make 
a memorandum of some things she wished to tell 
me, so that if I ever found her husband, or her father, 
I would be able to give them news of her, and some 
idea of her terrible history since she was carried off 
by the Indians. I told her that Lebrun understood 
Spanish better than I ; and, moreover, being a stenog- 
rapher, he could take her words down as she spoke 
them. She was very much pleased at this sugges- 
tion, and I called Lebrun to take down her narrative 
as she told it. Lebrun will send the manuscript as 
soon as he transcribes it. 

“ Poor woman ! That was a clear case of ‘ broken 
heart.’ She died of sheer grief, and nothing else.” 

“ But she gave you the diamonds before that ?” 
asked Mrs. Norval. 

The doctor looked at her, then arose, and began 
to undress, without answering. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“ THE TROPHIES OF MILTIADES DO NOT LET ME SLEEP.” 

Miss Lavinia Sprig might never have read about 
the battle of Marathon, but certainly there was a 
similarity of thought and feeling between Themis- 
tocles after Marathon, and herself as she sat with 
the poker in her hand contemplating the dying fire. 


48 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Like the Greek general, she mourned for the laurels 
that might have been her own, and the good fortune 
of rivals kept her awake. She was thinking of Mrs. 
Hammerhard and Mrs. Hackwell, and how their 
husbands — both — had made love to her, and then 
run off and married them. And they had two babies 
each now, — her two victorious rivals were happy 
mothers, — whilst poor Lavinia was not even a wife ! 
And that thought kept her awake. 

Miss Lavinia was sadly looking on the receding 
past, though her gaze was fixed upon the darkening 
grate, full of ashes. Was she drawing mental com- 
parisons between that grate and her own virginal 
bosom ? 

Quien sabe? But true it is that she suddenly 
gave the fire a tremendous thrust with the poker, 
exclaiming, “ Villain !” A few bright sparks flew up 
from the expiring embers, and Miss Lavinia com- 
menced a mental soliloquy, partly uttered : — 

“ Yes, their babies ! They are happy mothers, eh ? 
I wonder if God will punish those two men for their 
lies and treachery to me ? It is all I can do every 
Sunday to keep from screaming out from my pew to 
Hammerhard in his pulpit, ‘You liar! you liar!’ It 
would do me good if I did. And if I were to 
go to Hackwell’s church, I don’t think I could be 
able to contain myself; for he was the greater scoun- 
drel of the two. Hammerhard proposed to me, and 
went off and married Lizzie Dix ; but I wasn’t posi- 
tively engaged to him. But Hackwell was solemnly 
pledged to me, — the scoundrel, preaching scoundrel!” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


49 


Here Miss Lavinia gave a hard blow to the grate, 
muttering, “ How very wrong girls are in permitting 
any liberties to men to whom they are engaged ! 
How foolish ! how silly! Who can tell what miserable 
liars they may not turn out to be? For I believe 
that men would rather lie to a woman than speak the 
truth. Who would not have trusted those two men? 
They are trusted now. My own sister believes all 
Hackwell says even now, and doesn’t believe that he 
engaged himself to me. Oh, the rascals, the hypo- 
crites, preaching morality every Sunday ! Faugh ! 
what nasty beasts men are!” And here Miss Lavinia, 
as if the word men filled her mouth with some of the 
ashes in the grate, spat in disgust, and poked the fire 
vigorously in continued thrusts. 

“What is the matter, Aunt Lavvy? Are you 
sick ?” asked Ruth, who, standing unperceived by 
Lavvy, had been a silent spectator ,of that lady’s last 
performance with the poker. 

Lavinia started, and dropped the poker, which 
rolled down from the grate to her feet with a loud 
noise and clatter. 

“ No. I was thinking ; that’s all. But what makes 
you sit up so late ? I thought you were in bed.” 

“So I was; but I couldn’t sleep. I went to your 
room, for I wanted to ask you something, and, not 
finding you there, I came down to look for you in 
your favorite place, watching the fire, with the poker 
in your hand. I remember you told me this after- 
noon that I was angry with you, and I thought you 
would tell me the reason now.” 

5 


c 


50 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ Oh, that is of no consequence. I only thought 
you were angry because I did not tell you to wear 
my things to Mrs. Hammerhard’s christening. But 
you may. I am not going, and you can have them. 
I was thinking of something else when you said that 
if I went you couldn’t go, because you needed some 
of my evening things. You can have what you like 
that I own, — which is little enough.” 

“ It is more than I have ; and I thank you, aunt. 
I only want your lace collar and sleeves, and your 
fan and pearl set. It is too bad that I don’t own one 
bit of jewelry in the world but my cameo, which I 
wear every day of my life. I think mother is en^ 
tirely too stingy, and I mean to tell papa that I 
ought to have a few things which girls must have. 
To think that I am twenty years old (and the daughter 
of a gentleman), and never in my life had one silk 
dress besides my black silk! And those two papa 
bought for me, and mamma scolded when he did it. 
She never would buy me a bit of jewelry. I always 
look like the old Nick himself, and I feel mortified 
and disgusted with life. I know I shall look as if 
just out of Noah’s ark, with my old grenadine (I’ve 
been fixing it up), by the side of Julia Dix, who al- 
ways dresses elegantly.” 

“Yes, those Dix girls always gave all their souls 
to their ribbons.” 

“ That may be so ; but I know that out of eight sis- 
ters seven are married, and Julia is engaged to a New 
York banker. Lizzie Hammerhard and Mary Hack- 
well are the only two of all the eight sisters who did 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


51 


not marry rich men. They married for love,” added 
Ruth, maliciously. Lavinia arose hastily. But Ruth 
continued, saying, “ Even old Lucretia Cackle looks 
better dressed than Mattie and I. And Emma Hack- 
well, who certainly is poorer than we are, she too is 
a great deal better dressed, and they look at our shabby 
clothes and sneer. But I always say to everybody that 
if mamma wasn’t so economical we wouldn’t be so 
shabby, and all know it is so.” 

“But you ought not to tell it.” 

“But I shall, and I’ll speak to papa, too, the very 
first chance I get. Now I’ll go to sleep. Thank 
you for lending me your things. I hope I may some 
day return the kindness, though there exists at pres- 
ent but a poor prospect, for who on earth is to marry 
such a shabby-looking girl as me? I don’t think 
even any of the Cackle boys would think of propos- 
ing to me.” So saying, Ruth ran up-stairs, and got 
into her bed again. After she was cosily wrapped 
in the bed-covers, close to Mattie, she heard her 
Aunt Lavvy come slowly up-stairs and go to her 
room. “ Poor Lavvy !” said Ruth, laughing ; “ I 
wonder which of the two divines she likes best ?” 

“ Old Hacky, of course. I can see that plain 
enough,” said Mattie, without opening her eyes. 

“ What ! are you awake too ?” 

“You awoke me with your racket down-stairs, 
and I think you awoke mamma and papa too, for I 
heard them go into Julian’s room.” 

“ I made no racket. It was Aunt Lavvy apostro- 
phizing her faithless parsons with the poker in her 


52 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


hand, hammering the grate for Hammerhard, and 
hacking it for Hackwell.” 

“Bah! that isn’t original. That is one of Julian’s 
puns,” said Mattie, hugging her sister. 

Slowly Lavinia hung a night-gown on the two 
peaks which formed her shoulders, and got into bed. 
But not to sleep. Those babies — those “ trophies of 
Miltiades” — kept her awake. Her nose was red with 
crying, and her eyelids were heavy, but not sleepy. 

“ Do you hear Aunt Lavvy’s sighs ?” asked Ruth, 
in a whisper, and both sisters laughed. 

“ Poor aunty ! it is too bad of those parsons to have 
fooled her so cruelly,” said Mattie. “I don’t like 
them for it, particularly that smooth, conceited, de- 
ceitful Hackwell. I don’t see why mamma likes 
him. He is handsome, but what is that to mamma ? 
She don’t care for his looks.” 

“ Of course she don’t, or she thinks she don’t; but 
looks are a heap , Mat, and no mistake, and that is 
why I think it is so mean in mamma to dress us so 
shabbily, and I was telling aunt I will speak to papa 
about it; and so you ought, for he loves you the best.” 

“ No, he don’t. Julian is his favorite.” 

“ He loves us all well enough to feel ashamed of 
seeing us dress in old rags,” said Ruth. 

After which aphorism both sisters fell asleep, just 
as Lola crawled out of the servants’ room in search 
of less foul air, and to avoid the snoring duo, which 
almost set her crazy, and went to lie at Mrs. Nor- 
val’s door, with Jack’s sympathy for consolation, and 
his woolly body to keep her warm. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


53 


CHAPTER IX. 

POTATIONS, PLOTTING, AND PROPRIETY. 

Some months had elapsed since Dr. Norval’s re- 
turn from California. It was now Christmas night, 
and the reverend gentlemen, — Hackwell and Ham- 
merhard, — having preached two long sermons each, 
now wanted a good dinner. Married to sisters, and 
being in many ways congenial, the two divines were 
very intimate, and passed almost every evening to- 
gether. Particularly after a hard day’s preaching, 
they were sure to meet in Mr. Hackwell’s sanctum 
to criticise their own oratory; and if any one could 
have heard the peals of laughter that issued through 
the keyhole of the sanctum, he would have guessed 
that their mutual criticisms were not severe. Whilst 
thus engaged, their two wives sat in the parlor, and 
compared their husband’s flocks, also for relaxation. 

This evening, after a very jolly dinner at Mr. Hack- 
well’s, the two sisters, as usual, sat in the parlor to 
discuss the absorbing topic of the village, — the sud- 
den prosperity of the Norval family, — and their hus- 
bands retired, as usual also, “to have a quiet smoke.” 

“ All the Norvals wore new dresses to church, new 
cloaks, new furs, and new bonnets, again. There seems 
to be no end to their money,” said Mrs. Hammerhard. 

“ Mrs. Cackle told me that Mrs. Norval said that 
5 * 


54 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


the doctor is going to buy an open carriage to ride 
next summer, and keep the close one only for win- 
ter. Isn’t that grand?” observed Mrs. Hackwell. 
“ I invited Mrs. Cackle for this evening.” 

“ I wonder how much the doctor brought from 
California. Do the Cackles have any idea ?” 

“ Mrs. Cackle thinks that those boxes which the 
doctor took back to New York so soon after he 
came were full of gold quartz, and that he got gold 
out of the quartz,” said Mrs. Hackwell. 

“ Nonsense ! that is one of Mrs. Cackle’s wonder- 
ful stories.” 

Thus went on the two sisters, and thus was going 
on the whole village, wondering how much gold the 
doctor brought. And Mrs. Cackle was invited to 
tea by all the principal ladies of the village, because 
Mrs. Cackle was next-door neighbor to Mrs. Norval, 
and was her friend , besides being a very observant 
and communicative lady. 

“ Here we are,” observed the Rev. Hackwell, closing 
the door and locking it. Mr. Hammerhard knew 
that they were there, and what for y too. He knew it 
by experience. Without further preliminaries, his 
reverence Hackwell went, to a closet (which he 
always kept locked), and, unlocking it, took out of it 
a gallon demijohn, a deep tray holding two tumblers, 
two spoons, two lemons, a sugar-bowl, and a china 
mug which could hold about three pints. Then he 
took out a brass kettle, and, filling it with water, put 
it on the fire. 

The sympathetic little kettle soon began singing 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


55 


the tune he knew the two divines wished to hear. 
Mr. Hackwell cut a few pieces of lemon-peel, and, 
measuring his whisky (for whisky it was that his rev- 
erence kept in the hidden demijohn), put the required 
sugar and liquor and lemon-peel in the tumblers and 
poured the hot water in, taking care to put in the 
spoons, that the hot water might not break the glasses. 
Whilst the Rev. Hackwell brewed the punch, the 
Rev. Hammerhard filled the pipes. Now, punch and 
pipes being ready, their reverences sank into their 
easy-chairs to enjoy them, with their feet upon the 
high fender. 

After some moments of silence, in which only by 
winks and nods they signified how very nice the 
punch was, Mr. Hammerhard opened the conversa- 
tion. 

“ I have often thought I would ask you a ques- 
tion, but always put it off.” 

“ Out with it ! What is it ?” said Hackwell. 

“ Well, I have wanted to ask you how it was that 
when you gave up practice* for preaching ” 

“Very good,” interrupted Mr. Hackwell, taking a 
good, long sip at his tumbler. “ I see that you have 
not preached away all your brains. Go on. Prac- 
tice for preaching, you said.” 

“ Yes. When you gave up hard practice for easy 
preaching, why didn’t you become a Methodist or 
an Episcopalian, — anything more human than a blue 
Presbyterian ?” 

Mr. Hackwell laughed, and answered, — 

“Don’t you remember that when we were in 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


56 

college the boys used to call me Johnny * whole - 
hog *? ” 

“ Yes, I remember that.” 

“ Well, it was on account of a tendency of mine, 
which has not left me, never to do anything by 
halves, but to go the whole length in anything I un- 
dertake. If I had left the practice of law to become 
an Episcopalian preacher, I would not have stopped 
there, — I would have ended by being a Catholic 
priest. Then I could not have married ; and imagine 
what a loss that would have been to the ladies ! 
Think of that !” 

“ I think the ladies would have been the gainers 
thereby,” said Hammerhard, with a knowing wink. 
“ I think you would have made a lovely father-con- 
fessor.” At which witticism both divines laughed 
heartily. 

“ Moreover,” continued Hackwell, when their laugh 
subsided, “ as I intended to settle in New England, I 
knew there was no risk of my going too far as a 
Presbyterian. One can’t be too blue in these regions, 
you know.” 

“ That is a fact. But, apropos of the ladies, I say, 
Hack, didn’t we miss it in jilting poor, susceptible 
Lavvy ? The Norvals now are certainly rich, and to 
be in the family would not be a bad thing for a poor 
preacher.” 

“ I have often thought of that myself, particularly 
since the new carriage and horses arrived ; but now 
it is too late to enter by the side-door — Miss Lavvy, — 
or the front ones, — the Misses Norval, — since we are 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


57 


married. We must manage to enter by some crack. 
What a pity that neither of us can be father-con- 
fessor to Mrs. Norval !” 

“ You can be as bad as — I mean as good — as if 
you were her confessor. Being her pastor, you can 
be her spiritual adviser.” 

“I wish I could, Ham; but she doesn’t want any 
advice ; she isn’t that sort of a female.” 

“ I tell you, Hack, you are mistaken. She does 
want a friend and a confidant; and, as she thinks 
you are next to perfection, I say, old boy, there is 
your chance, — -jump at it.” 

“ What do you mean ? Speak plain.” 

“ I mean that from the hints she has thrown out 
in my presence (and no doubt she has given many 
more to you) about the Mexican child, and how she 
ought to be educated, and all that sort of thing, it 
is quite clear that there is a contest going on be- 
tween the madam and the doctor about the child 
and about money matters; and if her mind is per- 
plexed, she is no woman if she isn’t longing for 
‘ moral support ’ and all that sort of thing, which you 
can give her.” 

Mr. Hackwell blushed. Mrs. Norval had said a 
good deal to him in the shape of hints, and regrets 
that she had not “ spoken frankly to Mr. Hackwell.” 
If Dr. Norval had not taken his gold boxes away so 
very soon, Mrs. Norval would have asked Mr. Hack- 
well’s “moral support” in extracting a few lumps. 
Now that couldn’t be done; but Mrs. Norval felt 
confident that if Mr. Hackwell was practicing law, 
c* 


58 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


she then could have managed to put Lola’s money 
in his hands. She had hinted that much, only she 
did not say that the money was Lola’s : oh, no ; she 
wanted people to think it was theirs. 

Mr. Hackwell blushed, as I said, because, on hear- 
ing Mrs. Norval’s hints, the very thoughts expressed 
by Hammerhard had also crossed and recrossed his 
active brain. Hammerhard continued : — 

“You see, you being her pastor , there will be no 
impropriety in offering advice, and you can suggest, 
mildly, that, having been a lawyer, you understand 
money transactions, etc.’’ 

Mr. Hackwell studied for awhile, then exclaimed, 
tapping his forehead with his pipe-stem, — 

“ I have it !” 

But just at this moment Mrs. Hackwell tapped at 
the door too, saying that all the Cackles were in the 
parlor, having come to pay their respects to their dear 
pastor Mr. Hackwell, and thank and congratulate 
him for his edifying sermons of that day. 

The two reverend gentlemen, with exclamations 
not at all edifying, washed their mouths to banish all 
odor of whisky, and went into the parlor, where about 
a dozen Cackles awaited them. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


59 


CHAPTER X. 

HOW A VIRTUOUS MATRON WAS KEPT AWAKE. 

Mrs. Cackle certainly brought startling news from 
Mrs. Norval’s, whom she had just left. The Norvals 
were to have not only another carriage, another pair 
of horses, another man-servant, but another house. 
The doctor was going to buy Esquire Nugent’s house, 
with its splendid gardens and greenhouses, where 
grapes were raised in profusion. 

The company were speechless with astonishment. 
Mr. Hammerhard was the first to break the silence by 
saying to Mrs. Cackle, — 

“ But, with all your sagacity to find out things 
which no one else can find out, you haven’t got hold 
of the source or the amount of their gold. ” 

“ That is not so easily ascertained, as neither Lavvy 
nor the girls se£m to know anything about it ; and 
Mrs. Norval evidently don’t want to speak a word on 
that point. But with all that, one thing we can guess 
easy enough.” 

“ And what is that ?” several voices asked. 

“That the little black child is in some way con- 
nected with the money. My son Beau, who is cer- 
tainly very smart at guessing, thinks that the child’s 
mother must have been some Indian woman who 


6o 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


told the doctor where he could find rich gold-diggings, 
and that the doctor, out of gratitude, — for he has such 
funny notions, — wants to educate the child and bring 
her up like a white girl.” 

“ The doctor is a truthful man, and he says that the 
child has neither African nor Indian blood in her 
veins,” observed Mr. Hackwell. 

“ If she had, Mrs. Norval would not take the girl 
in her carriage. Mrs. N. ain’t that sort of person,” 
said old Mr. Cackle. 

“ Mrs. Norval is a great abolitionist, and doesn’t 
mind negroes. Besides, doesn’t Lavvy take her poodle 
too ?” Mrs. Hammerhard remarked. 

“ Mrs. Norval is a good abolitionist in talk,” re- 
plied Miss Lucretia Cackle, with a sneer; “but she 
ain’t so in practice. Polly, the cook, told our cook 
that the night the doctor arrived with Lola, Mrs. 
Norval insisted that the child should sleep with 
Hannah, or with the cook ; but as she, the cook, de- 
spises niggers, she plainly told Mrs. Norval that she 
‘ wouldn’t have sich a catteypillar’ in her bed ; and 
as Hannah wouldn’t have the black thing neither, 
Lola had to sleep on the floor in thfc hall. But when 
the doctor found it out next morning, he ‘ kicked up 
such a rumpus’ and carried on so that Mrs. Norval 
was afraid he would ‘bust a blood-vessel.’ And 
when he was very angry, he told Mrs. Norval that if 
she didn’t treat Lola just the same as her own daugh- 
ters, he would take her and the gold to New York, 
and put her under the care of Mr. William Sinclair, 
the banker, and Mrs. Norval should not have half an 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


6l 


ounce of gold. Then a room was fixed up for Lola 
by Mrs. Norval herself.” 

The party at Mr. Hackwell’s were not the only 
friends busily engaged in guessing the origin, amount, 
and present destination of Dr. Norval’s gold. All 
the village was similarly occupied. If the boxes had 
not been so heavy and so large, the guessers could 
have approached nearer the truth. But how could 
well-balanced Yankee minds ever lose their poise to 
the degree of imagining such fairy-tale balderdash 
as that enormous amount of gold? The truth 
of the thing was what baffled their wise calcula- 
tions, for certain minds are impervious to certain 
truths. 

The fact of Mrs. Norval tolerating Lola in her 
carriage, at her table, in her parlor, was also very 
astonishing. They all knew that “ Mrs. Norval had 
never been known to give a poor nigger a penny 
and plenty of the poor wretches had been about the 
village, trying to raise subscriptions to buy the free- 
dom of their children or their parents. The doctor 
was the one to give to the poor darkies ; he always 
gave more than any other, though he never would 
put his name down, because, he said, he was “a 
good-for-nothing Democrat.” 

Whilst the village was guessing, the doctor invested 
all the money well. The rough pebbles had been 
sent to Europe to be made into jewelry, and had 
been pronounced first-class gems. 

After awhile the sets ordered came. The remain- 
ing stones not used came all ready cut for setting. 

6 


62 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


The doctor remembered that Lola’s mother had told 
him to take half of the stones, if he wished, so he 
thought he could conscientiously take a few of the 
smallest and have some pins and ear-rings made for 
his girls. He would also have a handsome breastpin 
and ear-rings for his wife, though he knew she would 
not wear diamonds. 

Ruth’s set was made of emeralds and diamonds, 
Mattie’s of opals and diamonds, and that of Mrs. 
Norval of diamonds alone. 

None of the ladies at Dr. Norval’s slept the 
night the jewelry arrived. Ruth and Mattie kept 
awake with pleasure, Mrs. Norval with rage, and 
Lavinia with mortification. Poor Lavvy’s eyes and 
nose were red next morning, and the doctor felt 
sorry to have forgotten his sister-in-law. In a few 
days, however, Lavvy’s birthday came, and then she 
received a beautiful topaz set and a lovely diamond 
ring. When the doctor had thus, as he believed, 
propitiated all the ladies, he bought a coral pin and 
ear-rings for Lola, and thought they ought to be 
satisfied. But Mrs. Norval, as usual, thought differ- 
ently. That night, when they retired to their bed- 
room, after she had read the Bible a long, long time, 
so that the doctor had nearly gone to sleep, she said, 
tying her night-cap, — 

“ And are these things which you brought to us 
all that came out of your magnificent diamonds, and 
emeralds, and opals, and rubies ?” 

“ Bless you, no ! They are made out of the small- 
est stones, and the diamonds in those of the girls are 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


63 

the cuttings of the large diamonds in Lola’s sets,” 
answered the doctor, ingenuously. 

Mrs. Norval felt as if she would smother or choke 
with rage. Her husband continued : — 

“ If it wasn’t for the risk, I would bring up, for you 
all to see, the beautiful sets made for Lola. Certainly, 
those French people do make splendid jewelry! 
There are six full sets of different stones : all have 
diamonds, and all are very handsome. There are 
several pins and crosses and aigrettes, besides the full 
sets, — enough to turn half a dozen women crazy.” 

“ Describe the sets,” said Mrs. Norval. 

“Well, as to that, I don’t know that I am equal 
to it,” said the doctor, lying on his back. “ Let me 
see : one is all diamonds, worth two hundred thou- 
sand dollars” (Mrs. Norval held her breath and closed 
her lips tightly) ; “ then there is one of emeralds and 
diamonds, which, I believe, is worth eighty thousand 
dollars ; then one of pearls and diamonds, also worth 
eighty thousand dollars, or perhaps more, — I don’t 
exactly remember ; then one of opals and diamonds, 
worth forty thousand dollars ; then one of rubies 
and diamonds, worth twenty thousand dollars. But 
the prettiest of all, to my thinking, is one of all those 
stones and pearls mixed. The breastpin is like a 
bouquet, and the necklace and ornament for the head 
and bracelets are like wreaths of flowers all sprinkled 
with diamond dew-drops : it is the prettiest thing in 
jewelry I ever saw! I am glad I took those stones 
to that house in New York, for they have acted very 
honorably with me. If they had not suggested to me 


64 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


the idea of exchanging some of the cut stones for 
pearls, I would never have thought of it. But they 
did ; and they have made jewelry for the little girl 
handsome enough for a duchess. The value of the 
jewelry — all of it — is over half a million. Isn’t the 
little' thing rich? Sinclair tells me that in three 
years he will double her money.” 

“ Where is all that jewelry ?” asked Mrs. N. 

“ It is all locked up in an iron safe,” the doctor 
answered, turning over to sleep. 

Mrs. N. could not do that. She did not want the 
jewelry for herself, and she could not exactly approve 
of her daughters wearing such expensive things ; but 
it made her heart ache to think that the black child 
would have these things. The doctor might speak 
about the child getting lighter by-and-by : she did 
not believe that. And would that little nigger be so 
rich, and her girls so poor ? Their new carriages and 
splendid horses and handsome house, after all, did 
not make Mrs. N. happy. 

Mrs. Norval could not sleep, thinking of Lola’s 
magnificent jewelry. She was “ too shocked to sleep.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


6s 


CHAPTER XI. 

MRS. NORVAL DID NOT ENJOY HER BUCKWHEAT-CAKES, 
AND JULIAN WOULDN’T WRITE ANY MORE POETRY. 

The Norval family had floated on a delightful 
stream of prosperity for nearly three years, when 
the eventful 1861 dawned upon the land in all its 
gloom of political clouds. 

Few men as yet believed that there would be a 
war ; and one of these few was Dr. Norval. 

“ Sinclair writes me he is going to send his wife 
and daughter to Europe for a year or so, until things 
get clearer in this country,” said the doctor, one 
morning, at the breakfast-table. “ Don’t you think 
this is a good opportunity for the girls to go too ? 
Mrs. Sinclair says she will be very glad to take charge 
of them, if you don’t go.” 

“ //” exclaimed Mrs. Norval, letting her buck- 
wheat-cakes drop from the fork. 

Mattie made a rush at her father, and kissed him 
fervently, saying, between her kisses, — 

“ You are the darlingest old papa anybody ever 
had ! — you are, you are !” 

“ Sit still, Mattie. What a rough, unladylike girl 
you are !” said Mrs. Norval, sternly. “ I am very much 
obliged to Mrs. Sinclair; but I have no wish to send 
my girls to foreign countries, when we have a better 
one of our own , — a great deal better one.” 

6 * 


66 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ Oh, mamma !” ejaculated the apathetic Ruth, with 
a flush on her usually calm face, “ it ain’t possible 
you’ll let us lose such a splendid chance to go to 
Europe ?” 

“ Doctor, I am very sorry you mentioned this 
thing here. Why didn’t you tell it to me alone? 
Now I shall have no peace, I know.” 

“ I didn’t tell it to you alone, because I knew you 
would be horrified at the idea of it : so I thought I 
would let the girls know that they can go if they 
wish, and you can settle the matter among your- 
selves,” said the doctor, rising and taking his news- 
paper, to peruse it by the fire. 

“ Oh, what a man ! what a man ! He makes it his 
study to do, and say, and suggest always what he 
knows will make me wretched.” 

“ Bah !” said Mattie. “ Everybody knows that 
papa is the best husband and the best father in 
these United States.” 

“ Hold your tongue, miss ! You are intolerably 
saucy, and your father encourages you.” 

Ruth gave Mattie a very expressive look, which 
Mattie evidently understood. Ruth was a diplomat 
by instinct. She liked to manage her mother, be- 
cause she was the power of the family. Besides, she 
had made up her mind to have a trip to Europe. 
Not that she cared to see Europe for its historical 
or classic associations or treasures of art : she wanted 
to go to Europe because in her two trips to New 
York she had discovered that it was genteel to talk 
of having been in Europe, and that you were not 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


67 


considered “ tip-top” exactly until you spoke of 
Paris and the Coliseum, and going up the Thames 
and down the Rhine, and up and down the Danube, 
and being presented to crowned heads. 

Nothing more was said then, but as she got into 
bed, Ruth told Mattie that night, “ Consider yourself 
bowing to Queen Victoria,” and then turned over to 
sleep. 

Lola was decidedly too black and too young for 
Julian Norval to take a fancy to her; whilst she, 
the poor, lonely little soul, idolized Julian, and in her 
heart she couldn’t compare the handsome boy to 
anything but an archangel. 

Lola’s black skin and youth were not the prin- 
cipal reasons of Julian’s indifference. The principal 
reason was Emma Hackwell, the Rev. Hackwell’s 
sister, a young lady of five-and-twenty, who had 
lately come to make her home with her brother. 
With this young lady, — she being five years older 
than himself, — of course, Julian fell desperately in 
love. He would have run away with Emma and mar- 
ried her the first week of their acquaintance if that 
young lady had felt inclined to marry a boy seven- 
teen years old, — very handsome, it is true, but whose 
impetuosity was to Emma alarming, being to her 
way of thinking unnatural in a good New Eng- 
lander, and not to be trusted by a sensible Yankee 
girl. She would not even engage herself to him ; 
not until he was twenty-one years old, when he 
would be better able to know his own mind. Julian 
wrote wild love-ditties and desperate Byronic son- 


68 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


nets, and, for two sessions and one vacation, he 
threatened to kill himself. But on the second vaca- 
tion — Julian being near twenty — his ardor began to 
calm down somewhat. Emma was too calculating 
and matter-of-fact to keep his poetical glow alive. 
He began to foresee the day when he would write 
to her altogether in prose, and, maybe, begin his 
letters with “ Dear friend,” or “ Dear Miss Hack- 
well,” and not have to sign himself, “Your ever-loving 
Julian.” 

But in proportion as Julian’s love began to dimin- 
ish, Emma’s began to increase, or rather to become 
alarmed at his coldness. She wrote to him asking 
what was the cause of that change. He denied his 
having changed, only he was very busy with his 
studies, as he would graduate that spring. More- 
over, he said, people spoke about the probability of 
a war ; and as, if there was to be a war, he would be 
a soldier, he thought it was well that they were not 
engaged, though, “ of course, he felt for her as he 
always would, etc. etc. etc.” 

Emma was frightened. She consulted her brother. 
He asked her to show him Julian’s letter. After 
reading it he threw it on Emma’s lap, saying, with 
ill-suppressed anger, — 

“ Serves you right ! I told you to make sure of 
the boy in some way or other; but no, you must go 
and, like a fool, let him off. He is not engaged, and 
he’ll go off and take a fancy to some one else. You’ll 
never have such another chance, I can tell you.” 
And his reverence walked off in great indignation. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


69 

Poor Emma ! It was bad enough to be forgotten by 
her lover, without being scolded for it. But, though 
Mr. Hackwell scolded, he did not lose hope. Indeed 
he was not the man to let such a brilliant match for his 
sister slip without clutching at it with eager fingers. 
What would be the use of his great favor with the 
stately matron Mrs. Norval, who now always con- 
sulted Mr. Hackwell in every important occurrence 
in her family wherein she wished for any one’s 
advice ? Thus they had many tete-a-tetes, which Mr. 
Hackwell meant to turn to account. 

Just about the time when Emma received Julian’s 
letter, the question of the proposed trip of Ruth and 
Mattie to Europe came up. 

Nothing could have suited Mr. Hackwell’s plans 
better. He advocated it, and, a few days after, Mrs. 
Norval gave her consent. 

“The girls will be out of the way,” said Mr. 
Hackwell to himself as he walked home from Mrs. 
Norval’s. “And that is something. I wish Emma 
had not been so stupid ! As if a boy is to love a 
red-headed, uninteresting woman after he gets to be a 
man ! Absurd ! Of course he’ll bolt. But the girls 
will be off in two weeks, and then we’ll see what 
can be done to mend Emma’s affair.” 

Ruth felt no more now the pangs of other days, 
when she had lain awake at night thinking how she 
could fix up her old dresses to make them look like 
new ; when she used to go to church to watch with 
enraptured gaze the lovely bonnets of Julia Dix, while 
Mr. Hammerhard delivered his demolishing sermons. 


70 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Now the Misses Norval — and even poor Lavvy — had 
been for three years the leaders of fashion. 

In their handsome carriage, dressed in costly silks, 
the Misses Norval drove around to all their friends’ 
houses to bid them good-by. In old times Ruth and 
Mattie used to walk all over the village almost daily 
in the summer, and in the winter would walk to a hill 
two miles off to slide down-hill on sledges with the 
Cackle boys and girls, and they did not mind the 
violence of that exercise. Now they seldom walked. 
Since their new elegance, Ruth had found out that 
the reason why Spanish ladies have small feet and 
delicate ankles is because they walk so very little. 
Ruth’s foot was large, and her ankle solid, with well- 
developed sinews, like Mrs. Norval’s; still, she hoped 
at least to make her feet softer, less rebellious to going 
into small shoes. 

On the morrow the Misses Norval would make 
their farewell appearance in church, and the day 
after would start for New York. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


71 


CHAPTER XII. 

SOMETHING ABOUT THE SPRIG PEDIGREE. 

Before seeing the elegant Misses Norval off to be 
presented to the crowned heads, we must give some 
attention to a member of Mrs. Norval’s family who 
is of great importance in these pages, although he 
has been mentioned only casually. I mean no other 
than Mr. Isaac Sprig, Mrs. Norval’s youngest brother. 

This gentleman wrote to his sister that he, though 
entirely blameless, had got into “the most sticky 
scrape that ever a fellow could trip up into,” and 
that unless Dr. Norval went to pull him out of that 
hole, he — Isaac — did not see a way to crawl out 
of it. 

Mrs. Norval was very indignant with Isaac; but 
when she came to that part of his doleful letter in 
which he said that he and Julius Csesar Cackle were 
in the same scrape, but that as Cackle had two brothers 
just elected to Congress, he had only changed places, 
and from the Treasury Department had been merely 
transferred to the Post-Office Department, whilst he — 
Isaac — was turned out of office, the heart of Mrs. 
Norval swelled, and throbbed, and ached. Her in- 
dignation against Isaac was lost in the greater one 
she felt against the government of the United States 
of America. 


72 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Oh ! the idea that a Cackle should be transferred 
from one department to another, whilst a Sprig — her 
brother — was turned out ! And who were those 
Cackles ? and how came they to have more influ- 
ence than Isaac? This very Julius Caesar Cackle got 
his clerkship through Dr. Norval’s influence, and the 
doctor even lent him money to pay his expenses to 
Washington, after getting him the place. And as 
for these two brothers — Mirabeau and Cicero Cackle 
— who were now just elected members of Congress, 
why were they so ? Because Dr. Norval had lent them 
the necessary money. If it had not been for the 
doctor, instead of giving themselves airs at Washing- 
ton, they would now be at home, plowing, or minding 
their cattle in the barn, instead of representing their 
constituents at the capital. All this was too much for 
a rich woman to bear. She would send her husband 
to demand that her brother be reinstated, and that 
without any assistance from the ungrateful Cackles, 
those Cackles who might be M.C.’s, but were never- 
theless Cackles. 

Isaac, it is true, was a scapegrace, not at all a 
sober - minded, economical, thrifty New Englander. 
He was free with his money, he liked foreigners, and 
had a most lamentable penchant for gallantry. Mrs. 
Norval thought of all this, and yet she — the paragon 
of all matrons — preferred this black sheep Isaac to 
all her family, excepting her children. 

I heard a crusty bachelor once say that women of 
a severe cast of mind were sure to have folds and 
creases in the heart, where preferences for scamps 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


73 


were always certain to hide themselves. This theory 
perhaps accounts for Mrs. Norval’s preference for 
Isaac, — this Isaac, who had done nothing but shock 
her feelings and her rigorous sense of propriety. 
Isaac would prefer Havana cigars to a pipe or a 
chaw of tobacco, and those miserable sour wines 
to a good drink of whisky, old Mr. Sprig said ; and 
the information only increased Mrs. Norval’s fear that 
Isaac would come to no gQod end. Lately, too, 
Mrs. Norval had learned that Isaac went often to the 
theatre, and also to hear the singing of the Catholic 
Church, all of which was the same thing to the strict 
New England matron, and in her heart she blamed 
her husband. Yes, Dr. Norval had either developed 
or created those tastes in Isaac for every abom- 
ination which the well-regulated mind of a New 
Englander repudiates. The doctor had taught him 
to drink Rhine wine once when they were looking 
for mineral specimens in the mountains of New 
Hampshire. The doctor had taught him to smoke 
cigars. The doctor had taken him to the opera, 
and to the Catholic Church. 

On hearing of this last performance, old Mr. 
Sprig had said to the doctor, “Though we owe 
everything to you, sir, still, I hope you will not be 
offended if I say that my old woman says she’s very 
uneasy in her mind about our Isaac going to places 
of sin; and though we owe everything to you, 
sir ” 

“ Goodness, father! you repeat that every time you 
see James. What is it, after all, you owe him, that 
d 7 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


74 

you should be so humbly grateful to him ?” inter- 
rupted Mrs. Norval, provoked with her simple-hearted 
father. 

“ Nothing, my dear, of course,” said the doctor. 

But a glance at Mrs. Norval’s history previous to 
her appearance in these truthful pages will show that 
old Mr. Sprig was about right. 

Old Mr. Abraham Sprig lived on a small farm with 
his family, which consisted of two girls and two boys. 
Jemima and Lavinia were the girls, Abraham and 
Isaac the boys. They lived very happily. They 
raised poultry and vegetables, which the boys took 
to market in Boston every Saturday morning. The 
old lady and Jemima put up pickles, and made butter 
and apple-sauce ; all of which articles, being of good 
quality, commanded high prices in the Boston market. 
The Sprigs had lived in this Yankee Arcadia for many 
years, and Jemima had attained her twentieth year, 
when one morning, — a Saturday morning, — as she 
was counting the eggs to send to market, a young 
man, dressed as a college boy, stood by the hen- 
house door, and, without previous salutation to 
announce his arrival, said to her, — 

“Will you have the kindness to tell me if I may 
walk through this field over to Mrs. Norval’s house?” 

So astonished was Jemima to see that handsome 
young gentleman standing there with hat in hand, 
speaking to her in a soft, gentlemanly sort of deep- 
toned voice, that she let three eggs drop, — all of 
which got broken, — and on that account she was 
not able to send twelve dozen, but only eleven, to 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


75 

market, which caused her great chagrin and disap- 
pointment. 

But though Jemima colored up with vexation, still, 
she told the young man quite politely he could walk 
across the field if he wished. 

“ The buggy I was coming in got broken, and that 
was the only conveyance I could get at the station. 
I have had to walk four miles, and I’ll have to walk 
two more if I don’t cut across those fields,” said the 
young man, apologetically. “ I am anxious to get 
there, because they telegraphed to me that my uncle 
is very ill. Do you know how he is ? Mr. Norval, I 
mean : he being your neighbor, you might know how 
he is,” said the young man, timidly. 

“ It is all up with him,” said hopeftll Isaac, snap- 
ping his fingers. 

“ Hush, Isaac !” said Jemima to her brother. Then 
to the young man : “ I have not heard this morning 
how Mr. Norval is, but last night he was very low, 
sir, I am very sorry to say. My mother and father 
are now with Mr. Norval ; and if I can be of any 
service to you, I hope you will not hesitate to com- 
mand me.” 

“ Thank you, thank you very much,” said the 
young man, hurrying off 

The dying man had barely time to bid his beloved 
nephew adieu, when, giving him his blessing, he 
closed his eyes forever. 

This uncle had been young James Norval’s guard- 
ian and his only near relative. James felt his loss 
most keenly, for he had been very tenderly attached 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


76 

to him, and for a time he seemed inconsolable. But 
young Norval was a college boy, at the susceptible 
age of nineteen : so the warm sympathy of the fine- 
looking Jemima Sprig gradually consoled the affec- 
tionate heart of the orphan boy, who wanted nothing 
better than to be consoled ; for his cheerful, healthy 
mind instinctively rejected sadness. 

From gratitude nothing was easier than to glide 
into love, on a quiet farm, with a fine girl constantly 
showing him all sorts of attentions, and his young 
heart longing to love some one. So the ardent 
college boy fell heels over head in love with Jemima, 
and would not return to college until he had declared 
his love. Jemima saw what was coming, and she 
took care to give him a chance. 

One day Jemima said she was going to gather 
apples for the cider-press, and young Norval; of course, 
most naturally went to offer his assistance. They had 
a basket almost full of apples, when the college boy 
fell on his knees by the basket and told his love. 
Just at that time the boys, Abraham and Isaac, came 
into the orchard with the cows. The two lovers pre- 
tended to have upset the basket and to be very busy 
collecting the scattered apples. 

But the nineteen-year-old lover was not to be 
balked in this manner, and he had to return to col- 
lege next day. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


77 


CHAPTER XIII. 

WHAT MR. ISAAC SPRIG FOUND AT THE “ DEAD-LETTER 
OFFICE.” 

That night, whilst Jemima was paring apples to 
make her celebrated apple-sauce (which brought such 
a good price in the -Boston market), the doctor — that 
is, young Norval — proposed and was accepted. He 
did not fall on his knees again, because Jemima was 
so surrounded with apple-peelings that there was no 
place near her where her lover could have rested his 
knees. 

The match was a very brilliant one for Jemima 
Sprig. The marriage took place as soon as young 
Norval received his diploma. The young husband 
took upon himself the duty of ameliorating the for- 
tunes of all his new family. Old Mr. Sprig had many 
more acres and more cattle added to his farm, and 
his son Abe plenty of hands to help him with the 
farming. Lavinia went to live with her sister, and 
attended school, being then only eight years of age. 
Isaac was two years younger than Lavinia ; but very 
soon he also was sent to school, and when he was old 
enough to learn a “ trade” as he disliked New Eng- 
land, he was sent to New York to study law : that he 
didn’t like, either. He was placed as a clerk in the 
banking-house of Sinclair & Co., but there he had a 
7 * 


78 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


difficulty with another clerk, and became dissatisfied. 
Then Dr. Norval got for him an appointment in the 
Treasury Department in Washington, where he re- 
mained until the occurrence which Isaac called an 
“ awful scrape,” and which has led me to say so much 
of the Sprig family. 

Isaac’s penchant for gallantry was the cause now, 
as it often had been before, of his being in trouble. 
Isaac had the audacity to admire a lady of the demi- 
monde whom a distinguished member of Congress 
also admired. One night when he, the Hon. Le 
Grand Gunn, was visiting the fair Lucinda, Isaac and 
his friend Julius Caesar Cackle, who were boarders of 
the house, went into the parlor and made themselves 
at home. To make matters more aggravating to the 
Hon. M. C., Isaac absorbed the attention, smiles, and 
sweet glances of the charming Lucinda, until the 
infuriated Gunn rushed out of the house in a rage. 
Lucinda laughed aloud while the Hon. was yet within 
hearing, whereupon that gentleman, forgetful of his 
distinguished public position, came back to ask, 
in a very insulting manner, if Sprig had laughed 
at him. Sprig colored with anger, but said he had 
not; whereupon Mr. Gunn, shaking his finger at him, 
said, — 

“ You had better not.” 

“ I did not laugh, but you are certainly laughable,” 
said Isaac, “ and I think you will make me laugh if 
you don’t go soon.” 

The Hon. ordered Sprig out of the house, and 
Sprig told him to go himself ; and from words they 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


79 

came to blows, and had a most ignominious fist-fight 
in the presence of the quadroon belle. 

Sprig came out victorious. Cackle had to go for 
a hack to convey Mr. Le Grand Gunn to his lodgings, 
as the Hon. gentleman was not able to walk, because 
he could not see out of his swollen eyes. His bloody 
nose, lacerated to a large size, gave Lucinda great 
desire to laugh, but that inclination this time she held 
in check until the distinguished politician was well 
out of hearing. 

The Hon. Gunn, of course, swore vengeance on the 
audacious clerk, and as soon as the state of his 
swollen visage permitted, he went to a friend of his 
who had great influence with the cabinet just formed, 
to request that the two clerks should be dismissed. 

“What have they done ? I know those two young 
men, and I think them efficient and well-deserving,” 
said the influential friend. 

“Well deserving of h !” roared Mr. Gunn. 

“This is what they have done, — at least one did, whilst 
the other laughed and never came to my rescue,” said 
the Hon., showing his friend a black eye, which he 
still kept bandaged under pretext of neuralgia in the 
left side of his face. 

The influential gentleman laughed, but promised 
that the clerks should be dismissed forthwith. 

“ You needn’t say anything about my black eye. 
They are both Breckinridge Democrats; that is 
enough, I should think,” said Mr. Gunn. 

“ Plenty,” replied his friend, making a memorandum 
of the case. 


go WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

That afternoon Sprig and Cackle received their 
dismissals. 

Dr. Norval found great difficulty in having his 
brother-in-law reinstated. In fact, it could not be done. 
Sprig was a Democrat, and so was the doctor. All 
that the doctor succeeded in doing was to get Isaac 
a place in the Post-Office Department. Six months 
earlier, the doctor could have obtained anything in 
Washington; six months later, he could have ob- 
tained nothing. Now, however, the public opinion 
was in that transition-state when no one could truly 
say to which side it would incline, — like the waters 
of the sea just before the tide changes, said to be 
stationary for a moment, to flow soon in the oppo- 
site direction. The American people had been edu- 
cated to believe that every man had a right to his 
opinion, and, at the breaking out of the rebellion, 
individuals were courteously asked their sentiments. 
Even officers of the army were consulted before 
giving them orders which might conflict with their 
sentiments; should these be in favor of the South, 
they were asked if they objected to do so and so. An 
officer of the army got a letter from one of General 
Scott’s staff-officers in which this passage occurs: 
“ The general would like you to take command 
of , but he wishes first to ascertain your senti- 

ments. If you are for the South, let me know it 
frankly; but I sincerely hope you are not, as the 
general thinks highly of you, and believes you are in 
every respect fitted to take the position of,” etc. 

Politicians, therefore, were out of humor with each 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


81 


other, but, as yet, they had not begun to teach the 
masses intolerance. As for persecution, it was a thing 
of abhorrence to the American mind. The political 
leaders, of course, saw that a change was on the eve 
of arriving ; but the people still spoke of liberty in all 
sincerity. The door was not shut and bolted for 
Isaac ; it was yet left ajar, and he slipped into his 
clerkship at the Post-Office. 

His friend Cackle was already there, and his 
pleasure at seeing Isaac seemed so genuine that the 
easy-tempered, forgiving Isaac soon forgot that the 
Cackles had not offered to help him in his distress. 

But Sprig and Cackle had to content themselves 
with very humble positions compared to those they 
had occupied before. They were placed in the dead- 
letter department, and the salary wasn’t large. But 
Isaac had plenty of cash. The doctor’s purse was at 
his disposal, and Isaac often dipped his fingers into it. 

One morning, as Sprig and Cackle were busy 
opening “dead letters,” Julius said, — 

“ Here, Isaac, you who have a turn for romance, 
and a hankering after foreigners and their yarns, 
you’ll like to read this, I know.” And, so saying, 
Cackle threw a roll of paper to him. 

Sprig caught the roll of paper as it fell, and, open- 
ing it, saw that it was a manuscript written in bold, 
clear hand, with the following heading : 

“Account given by Doha Maria Teresa Almenara 
de Medina, on her death-bed, of the manner in which 
she was captured by the Apache Indians in Sonora, 


82 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


in December, 1846, and then traded off to the Indians 
of the Colorado River.” 

Then, at the bottom of the last page, it said, — 

“ I certify on honor that the above is a correct 
copy, faithfully transcribed from the stenographic 
original. I wrote as Doha Teresa spoke. 

“Adrian Lebrun. 

“San Francisco, Cal., December, 1857.” 

Sprig read a page, then said to Cackle, — 

“ Where is the envelope of this manuscript ? It is 
very interesting.” 

“ I knew you would think so. I don’t know where 
the envelope is ; it was stamped ‘ dead,’ and I pitched 
it off with the others.” 

“ Let us look for it ; I want to know to whom it 
was addressed,” said Isaac. And both friends searched 
for the envelope, but in vain. Isaac was very much 
disappointed at this, but Cackle consoled him, 
saying,— 

“ What is it to you to whom it is addressed ? 
Take it and read it, if you like.” 

And as he was told that many clerks took home 
“dead papers,” Isaac did not see any objection to his 
taking the interesting manuscript. 


4 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


83 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE DOCTOR WAS REWARDED FOR LISTENING TO MR. 
hackwell’s SERMON. 

It was the anniversary of some great day in New 
England when the Misses Norval were to make 
their farewell appearance in church before leaving 
for Europe, — some great day in which the Pilgrim 
fathers had done some one of their wonderful deeds. 
They had either embarked, or landed, or burnt a 
witch, or whipped a woman at the pillory, on just 
such a day. The reverend gentlemen of our ac- 
quaintance were to hold forth to their respective 
congregations, who idolized them, and would have 
mobbed and lynched any one daring to hint that the 
two divines solaced themselves with a jug of whisky 
after those edifying sermons; that it was “John 
Barleycorn, and not John the Baptist,” Mr. Hack- 
well said he liked to consult after church. They did 
not know how many puns the witty Hackwell had 
made on Demi-John, and Saint John, and Jolly-John, 
which last was himself. 

The open carriage, with its handsome pair of black 
horses, stood at the gate, waiting to convey the Misses 
Norval to church. The doctor and Mrs. Norval 
would walk. Mrs. Norval did not wish to harass 
the ladies of the village to the verge of distraction 


8 4 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


by having her two carriages at once at her gate. 
Unless the weather was too inclement, she always 
walked to church ; in fact, she walked everywhere 
most of the time, for she knew that many of her 
neighbors were nearly thrown into convulsions to 
see her daughters drive out through the village, and 
Mrs. Norval did not wish to be hated, although she 
did not particularly desire to be loved, either. Her 
mind loved dignified repose, that was all. 

At the gate the doctor’s family always separated, 
he and his wife went to Mr. Hackwell’s church, whilst 
the girls went to Mr. Hammerhard’s. At first Mrs. 
Norval had insisted on Lola’s going with her ; but 
the child cried so much, or behaved so irreverently at 
church, that Mrs. Norval with great reluctance per- 
mitted her to go with Lavinia and her daughters to 
the other church. This was better than to allow her 
to learn anything about popery. Now, however, 
Lola had been for a year at school in the neighbor- 
ing town, where she could get a better music-teacher, 
and also lessons in French and Spanish, but where 
there was no Catholic church. Of this Mrs. Norval 
had been very careful. She did not object, how- 
ever, to her sister and daughters going to a different 
church from her own, — an inconsistency which had 
made the doctor smile. To him it seemed a laughable 
freak of his serious, dignified wife, to be so careful 
about the religion of the child she disliked so in- 
tensely, whilst she seemed almost indifferent about 
that adopted by her own daughters. He was think- 
ing of this whilst helping his daughters into their 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


85 


carriage ; and Mrs. Norval, noticing his smile, asked 
him what caused it. The doctor answered, as they 
walked towards church alone, — 

“ I was thinking of the parallel that the French- 
man made between his country and ours.” 

“And what was that?” asked Mrs. Norval. 

“ He said that the greatest difference between 
France and the United States is, that ‘in France there 
is great variety of sauces, and only one religion ; 
whereas in the United States there is great variety 
of religions, but only one sauce, and that is butter- 
sauce * ” 

“How I do hate foreigners !” exclaimed Mrs. 
Norval, vehemently. At which exclamation the 
doctor laughed, saying, — 

“ I am glad that hating foreigners agrees with your 
constitution so well. It is well to have something 
to stimulate the liver. Hatred is your stimulant.” 

Mrs. Norval only gave for answer one of her lofty 
stares, and they walked to church without further 
conversation. 

The doctor behaved very well at church. He did 
not smile, as he sometimes did, when Mr. Hackwell 
meant to be most edifying. Mrs. Norval had on one 
or two occasions heard her husband mutter to him- 
self, “ What a smart rogue he is !” and this when she 
felt her eyes fill with tears drawn forth by “ the beau- 
tiful eloquence,” as Mrs. Cackle expressed it, of Mr. 
Hackwell. On this day, however, the doctor listened 
attentively, and Hackwell surpassed himself. His 
theme, to be sure, was the hackneyed one of the 
8 


86 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT* 


sublime love of religious freedom, which made the Pil- 
grim fathers abandon home, civilization, and friends, 
to come to a comfortless wilderness to encounter 
horrible savages and privations of all kinds, all for 
the sake of that one thing dearer to them than all 
else, viz., “ freedom of opinion,” which is the “ in- 
dividual liberty of the soul,” said Mr. Hackwell, and 
launched forth with renewed vigor upon the threat- 
ened rebellion, and called the Southerners and their 
Northern friends all the names to be found in the 
Bible most derogatory to mankind, commencing with 
Beelzebub and ending with Judas Iscariot. Many of 
his remarks were evidently aimed at the doctor ; at 
least so Mrs. Norval thought; and she nodded her 
head slightly in approbation, which caused Hack’s 
eloquence only to glow the more and emit brighter 
sparks. The congregation also noticed this decorous 
by-play, and began to look at the doctor; but he 
did not seem to notice anything. He sat still and 
listened attentively. 

When the service was over, and the congregation 
had gone home, various were the comments upon the 
sermon. The majority, however, were of opinion 
that if Mr. Hackwell had “ really meant to lash the 
doctor, it would only be serving him right.” 

There was no doubt that the mind of New Eng- 
land was greatly exasperated by the doctor. All 
New England knew that the doctor had gone down 
to Washington expressly to help Senator Crittenden 
and other influential men in their efforts to avoid a 
war with the South. The doctor might say what he 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


87 

pleased about loving his country too well to have 
too much partiality for one section. They, the New 
Englanders, knew better ; and if the doctor had not 
felt too strong a partiality for the wicked South he 
would have stayed quietly at home, and then have 
gone and thrashed them back if they rebelled. 

Moreover, it was known that the doctor was in the 
Senate when the Southern Senators delivered their 
farewell addresses and retired as aliens from the halls 
in which they had legislated as distinguished citizens. 
The doctor wept as each stately Senator, with sad 
but resolute mien, arose, and, bidding farewell to his 
colleagues and fellow-citizens, bowed a head grown 
gray in the service of a common country, and then 
departed, as he thought, forever. 

The doctor staggered as he arose from his seat in 
the Senate gallery, as if he had received a blow upon 
the breast. He leaned his throbbing head upon the 
cold marble balustrade ; then, feeling calmer, went 
down slowly with downcast eyes. Mr. Mirabeau 
Cackle, the newly-elected member from the doctor’s 
district, wrote home that the doctor was crying like 
a child as he went down-stairs. Mrs. Cackle, of 
course, took care to repeat what her distinguished 
son Beau had written. 

The doctor had not been the same man (his friends 
said) since he came back from Washington after the 
South had seceded. He was no longer the cheerful, 
genial man. He was silent and serious. He read 
or wrote all the time, never made any visits, saw but 
few visitors, and never spent an evening with his 


88 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


family. Immediately after tea he would retire to 
his own room to read or write. 

The evening after Mr. Hackwell’s sermon the doc- 
tor spent with his family, and conversed quite cheer- 
• fully with the many friends who came to wish the 
young ladies a pleasant journey. On the morrow the 
Misses Norval, accompanied by their mother as far 
as New York, would leave for Europe. The friends 
bade their adieus ; the family retired for the night. 

The doctor put out the light, and lay down by his 
wife. 

Wonderful to relate, and to the utter astonishment 
of the doctor, his wife put her arm around him (a 
thing she had not done since the wicked Southerners 
had fired on Fort Sumter), and said, — 

“ I am glad you liked Mr. Hackwell’s sermon.” 

“ Yes. I approve of letting everybody enjoy free- 
dom of conscience,”* said the doctor, patting her 
hand. 

“So do I,” said she, slightly pressing his. 

“ I am glad to hear you say so. I was afraid you 
would oppose me. The more I think of it, the more 
plainly I see that it is my duty, and that I am in honor 
bound, to obey the wishes of Lolita’s mother, and 
send the child to be educated in the faith of her an- 
cestors. That was the last prayer of the unfortunate 
lady, and I must obey it. Don’t you think so ?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


89 


CHAPTER XV. 

MRS. NORVAL’S HIGH PRINCIPLES BEGIN THEIR WORK. 

Gradually Mrs. Norval withdrew her arm, and 
slowly turned on her back to prepare for controversy. 
The doctor waited patiently to hear the answer. 

“ Unless you yourself think that the idolatry of the 
popish rites is religion, I don’t see how you can con- 
scientiously send the girl to be brought up to believe 
in such mummeries,” said the lady. 

“ That is not the point. The mother did not leave 
it to my conscience to choose the child’s religion. 
I shall be abusing her confidence if I force upon 
her child other than the faith she designated. If 
you had died, leaving your children young among 
Catholics, would it not have been your last and 
most earnest injunction before dying that your chil- 
dren should be brought up Protestants ?” 

“ Of course it would. But my religion is a rational 
one, not an absurd belief in images, and saints, and 
relics, and holy water.” 

“ I am not defending the Catholic religion itself 
(though I must say I think it answers the purpose 
of all religions as well as any other). What I 
am holding is, the right to choose our religion , — the 
freedom which Mr. Hackwell lauded the Pilgrims 
for defending. Parents choose it for their children, 
8 * 


9 o 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


although children in this country are generally an 
exception. Witness our own , whom you have never 
been able to bring to your church, and now ” 

“ My children and their religion have nothing to 
do with our discussion,” interrupted Mrs. Norval. 
“ The point is this : you say that parents ought to 
choose religious faith for their children. You oc- 
cupy the place of Lola’s parents ; you ought to 
choose her religion.” 

“ That would be a better argument if the child’s 
own mother had not most positively chosen it herself. 
She also wished the child to be sent to a convent, 
and really I feel I have done wrong not to comply 
with her wishes. But from day to day I thought I 
would get the manuscript from Lebrun, and if I found 
her father he could then do what he pleased. As the 
manuscript never came, and Lola is now nearly four- 
teen, I do not think I ought to delay sending her to a 
convent, and I wish you to write to her to-morrow to 
get ready to go to any convent she may prefer in 
this country, or she can go to Europe if she likes.” 

“ I declare, you are enough to set any woman 
crazy !” said the doctor’s better half, sitting up in bed, 
for she felt when lying down as if her ire would suf- 
focate her. “ You are not satisfied with shocking the 
whole community with your absurd sympathy and 
treasonable defense of those wicked rebels, who have 
just now carried their audacious villainy to the ex- 
tremity of firing upon Fort Sumter, — of firing upon 
our holy flag, which represents the best government 
on earth , — but you must now come out too as an 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


91 


advocate of popery. Oh, it is too much ! Every- 
body pities me, for everybody knows my principles, 
and how horrible it is for me to have my husband 
writing letters against our glorious government, and 
making speeches against our best prominent men, 
and trying to help the rebels, or excuse their treason ; 
and now, to finish all, he must defend popery !” 

“ I do not defend popery, any more than I excuse 
the South for seceding. And as for my writing 
against our government, whoever has told you that 
has told you a wicked lie, and I am ready to prove 
it. But that is not the point in question. The point 
is, to send Lola to a convent. That must be done ; 
and I hope you will not fail to write to her about it 
to-morrow.” 

“ I shall do nothing of the kind. I shall be no 
party to sending a child to be taught wicked idol- 
atry, which I cannot think of except with horror and 
detestation. You forget yourself when you ask such 
a thing. Your next request perhaps will be that I 
give my consent to send Julian to help the rebels to 
fight our government.” 

“ Wife, you are too excited. Why do you insist 
upon bringing on a political discussion between us? 
You know that instead of asking you to send Julian 
to help the rebels, I have given him the funds to raise 
a company to fight the rebels. To-day I wrote to 
Sinclair to let Isaac also have funds to raise a com- 
pany. To the Cackles I have lent the money to 
raise another company also. This does not look as 
if I am helping the rebels, does it ?” 


92 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ It may not, but all you have said can’t be called 
back.” 

“ Nor do I wish to take back anything I. have ever 
said on the subject. I shall speak and act as I see 
fit. I am as good an American as any of those who 
accuse me.” 

“ And you see fit to act very absurdly. Who on 
earth but you would lend money to the Cackles ?” 

“ As the money is for raising troops, you at least 
ought to approve of my lending it. I told Julian he 
might raise a regiment if he liked, and I’ll back him 
with the necessary funds.” 

“ Is it possible that you have arrived at that point 
of lunacy !” she exclaimed. 

“ Bah !” said the doctor, turning on his side. 

“ All your throwing money away to raise troops 
won’t help you. You are put down as a rebel sym- 
pathizer on account of your treasonable letters and 
your treasonable words, and no matter what you do 
it won’t help you any, that I can tell you,” said the 
lady, also turning her back on her lord, with some- 
thing of exultation in her voice. 

“ All right,” said the doctor ; “ let us go to 
sleep now, and let them put me down what they 
please.” 

Mrs. Norval was a sagacious lady, and she under- 
stood her community even better than did her easy- 
going, generous-hearted husband. 

“ You will not be so indifferent if you are not more 
guarded. My prayer is, that your wicked sympathies 
may not injure Julian and Isaac.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


93 


“ Bother my sympathies ! No, Mrs. N., don’t be 
afraid of that. I have received a letter from Arthur 
Sinclair inviting me to join him in a trip up the Nile, 
and to Abyssinia. I shall accept his proposal, and 
will join him somewhere in the Mediterranean next 
October. Does that make your mind easier ? If I 
were ready, I would go with the girls now; but I must 
first see Julian fitted out, and Lola placed in a con- 
vent, then in August I’ll start.” 

“ Of course, Lola ! — always that black girl,” said 
Mrs. Norval, to seize upon some rope of an argu- 
ment to pull herself out, for she felt herself getting 
beyond her depth in the discussion. The doctor 
made no answer, and after some more futile efforts 
on her part she relinquished the contest. 

A few days after, the Misses Norval sailed for 
Europe, and Lola went to a convent to be educated 
as her mother wished. 

* * * * * * 

“ The proclamation of the President ! Seventy-five 
thousand volunteers called to defend the nation against 
treason !” shouted the newsboys in all the cities and 
towns large enough to have a newspaper. And the 
voices of the little urchins thrilled a great nation, for 
they were saying things of fearful import, through 
intent only on making pennies. 

Men and women were electrified ! What ! to dare 
to plot against “ the best government on earth !” 

Martial music resounded in the air the length and 
breadth of the land. Volunteers flocked to Wash- 
ington daily; and Julian, Isaac, and two of the 


94 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

Cackle brothers were among the first to offer their 
services to the government. 

The Cackles were Republicans, and felt great de- 
sire to crush the rebels. Isaac was a Democrat, but 
was very angry with the rebels for their folly in 
“spoiling the Democratic party,” and wanted to whip 
them. Julian did not care for politics, but he felt that 
every American was in duty bound to defend the 
Union. 

With the influence of Mirabeau and his brother 
Marcus Julius Cicero Cackle (both just elected to 
Congress), the other two brothers, Mark Antony and 
Julius Caesar, and also Julian and Isaac, backed by 
Dr. Norval’s money, promptly received their com- 
missions. Julian and Isaac got captaincies. 

Julius Caesar Cackle also was made a captain. 
Mark Antony was Isaac’s first lieutenant. 

The three companies were ready by the 1st of 
June, 1861 ; the young officers had displayed great 
energy and capacity in enlisting and organizing their 
troops. Their mothers and sisters were full of en- 
thusiasm and admiration for the young warriors. 
The battle of Bull Run was soon to be fought. 

Like two Roman matrons, Mrs. Norval and Mrs. 
Cackle waited to hear the announcement of the com- 
ing battle. They waited, and made lint for the 
wounded. Lavinia did more. We will give a whole 
chapter to her patriotism in due time. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


95 


CHAPTER XVI. 

“ VENI, VIDI, VICI 

The Northern army at last marched upon the 
South, and was met at Bull Run by the Southern. 

With flying colors, and full bands playing stirring 
melodies, battalion after battalion went down Penn- 
sylvania Avenue, down Seventh Street, to the Long 
Bridge out of Washington. 

The zouaves, with their gay uniforms, marched 
out saluted by enthusiastic shouts of the boys, and 
the ladies waved with their handkerchiefs their fare- 
well. 

Among the zouaves there marched two young 
men whom we will again meet in these pages. 
They labored, under the classic names of Aeschylus 
Wagg and Sophocles Head, up their rugged path 
in life, and now shone in the red breeches and blue 
jackets of the zouave uniform. 

The First Rhode Island Regiment also marched 
out gallantly, cheered and saluted by the white 
handkerchiefs of the ladies. Many of the fair en- 
thusiasts followed the brave warriors beyond the 
Long Bridge, and carried bouquets and garlands to 
decorate them. Even the horses which the warriors 
rode were decorated with flowers. Garlands made 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


96 

by fair hands hung around the horses’ necks. The 
army seemed to be on its way to a festival rather 
than to deal death and desolation. 

Isaac Sprig, too, wore a wreath around his hat, 
which the trembling hands of the pretty Lucinda 
had placed there, leaving a tear shining like a 
diamond on a red rosebud. 

History has recorded the result of the Bull Run 
battle. This narrative has to do only with our 
friends Julian, Isaac, and the Cackles. 

The companies commanded by Julian and Isaac 
were among the first to go into action. Julian 
was severely wounded and carried off the field 
within an hour after the firing had begun. Isaac, 
also, was wounded and made a prisoner with his 
first lieutenant Mark Antony — called for short Tony 
— Cackle. They had the grief of seeing their com- 
pany and their whole regiment run as fast as heels 
propelled by panic could carry them, whilst they 
were picked up by the rebels. 

The company of Julius Cackle was more fortu- 
nate. No one in it was wounded or made prisoner, 
though many were terribly scratched in their frantic 
running through the bushes. 

As for Julius himself, the stampede made his 
fortune. He was one of the foremost leaders of 
the flight, and soon he distanced the fleetest. As 
he ran madly in the van, his luck — having deter- 
mined to be propitious — brought him slap against 
a horse and buggy also going towards Wash- 
ington. The horse took matters more philoso- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


97 

phically than the scared Cackle, and he grazed 
along the road wherever he found a tempting tuft 
of grass. 

When the horse heard Cackle’s footsteps, he started 
at a jog-trot, but when the voice of Cackle sent a 
quivering shout to him, the animal, to the great joy 
of the frightened warrior, stopped still and waited. 
With trembling eager hands the panic-stricken cap- 
tain seized the reins which rested on the dasher, and 
the whip, and commenced to lash the horse to put 
him at his full speed. 

The captain had not traveled long at this furious 
rate, when he came to a brook which seemed rather 
deep. The horse stopped, and Cackle gave a discon- 
solate imploring look at the surrounding shrubbery. 
A little farther up, the brook seemed more shallow : 
he directed the horse to that spot, and began to cross 
the little stream. A moan and a sob attracted his 
attention. There on the opposite bank, in front of 
him, he saw a man lying on his back, who lifted his 
trembling hands imploringly to him. 

Cackle was too frightened to be merciful ; he was 
going on his way, leaving the prostrate man where 
he was, but the latter gave such a doleful bawl, ex- 
pressive of so much terror and pain, that the horse 
of his own accord stopped, as if determined to teach 
the captain that to “do unto others,” etc. should 
not be forgotten. 

“ For the love of God, do not leave me,” said the 
prostrate man, and, as the horse was standing still, 
Cackle thought the shortest way would be to see 
e 9 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


98 

if he could take the man with him. But, not wish- 
ing to lose precious moments by getting out, he said 
to the man, — 

“ Come on, then. Make haste.” 

“I can’t walk. Do help me, my dear Cackle. 
Don’t leave me here.” 

“ Who are you ?” said the captain, getting out. 
“You seem to know me. Ah! what the devil are 
you doing here ?” and Cackle involuntarily carried 
his hand to his revolver, for his first impulse was 
to shoot the prostrate man — being no other than the 
Hon. Le Grand Gunn, who had caused his dismissal 
together with that of Isaac. 

“ My horse threw me ; he got frightened seeing so 
many soldiers running past us. He began to run so 
fast that I couldn’t keep in the saddle, and I fell off. 
Then I ran on foot until I could run no more. I am 
entirely exhausted. If you don’t take me in your 
buggy, I must die here,” said Mr. Gunn, in a very 
faint voice. 

“ But what business have you here, anyhow ? What 
brought you to Bull Run on the day we were to have 
the battle ?” asked Cackle. 

“We came to see the battle from the distance. 
We thought it would be such a splendid sight. So 
three or four of us Representatives, and two or three 
Senators, got together to have some fun coming over 
to see the fight.” 

“And you have seen it; and I hope you are 

satisfied, you and your friends, with the d d fun 

you politicians have made for us all,” said Cackle, 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


99 


too terrified to be diplomatic, and forgetting his own 
uproarious loyalty besides. 

But he got out of his buggy, though with many 
glances askance towards the south, and helped the 
exhausted M.C. on his legs. 

“ I am utterly used up. I can’t drag my legs to 
the buggy, even,” said Mr. Gunn. 

“ Then I must drag you : for I have no notion of 
being nabbed by the rebs,” said the captain, taking 
the faint M.C. in his arms, which plowing and mow- 
ing had made as strong as if of iron, and, placing him 
on the buggy, started off at full gallop. 

The Hon. Gunn was not forgetful of the great 
service rendered by Cackle. He took care that he 
should be promoted. He made a most magnificent 
panegyric of the heroic behavior of the captain, so 
that he got him appointed colonel and breveted 
brigadier-general. Soon after, the lucky Cackle was 
made brigadier-general. His friend Gunn had argued 
well that a man who could run so judiciously as 
Cackle did would certainly make a good leader. 

As for Mark Antony Cackle, captured with Isaac, 
he was immediately exchanged and made colonel, vice 
Cackle, promoted. 

And Isaac : what of him ? 


100 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER XVII. 

JULIUS CAESAR CACKLE, A MODERN DARIUS. 

In justice it must be said that Julius and Tony- 
Cackle both thought of their generous friend Sprig, 
who had been so free with his money, and was now 
perhaps in want, languishing in captivity. They en- 
deavored to interest their influential brothers, Mira- 
beau and Cicero, in his behalf. Those two noble 
legislators took the matter rather coldly at first ; then 
they flatly told their brothers that as Dr. Norval 
was a “ suspected sympathizer,” the least they had to 
do with any of the Norval family the better it would 
be for all the Cackles, though they owed him money. 

Julius then tried to propitiate the Hon. Le Grand 
Gunn, believing that, in consideration of Isaac’s being 
now suffering for his country’s cause, the patriotic 
M. C. would forgive the unfortunate encounter in 
Lucinda’s presence. 

But in thus judging the Hon. Gunn, General Cackle 
only displayed great ignorance of human nature, with- 
out serving his friend. No sooner had Julius said the 
first words in behalf of Isaac, than the Hon. Gunn 
became very red in the face, and replied, — 

“ Look here, Cackle, I’ll do anything for you in 
reason , for you did me a great service; but to 
expect that I’ll do anything for that dandy, that 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? IOI 

cursed puppy, after the— the— that— he— that he 
gave me, is — is to expect too much of human nature! 
No, sir ! he shall rot in prison as long as I can con- 
trive to keep him there. He shall, — and serve him 
right. I have made up my mind on that point. He 
has got what he deserves. Lucinda’s eyes will be red 
with crying ; for she has a silly fancy for the infernal 
puppy ; but I reckon she will be consoled when she 
finds that he ain’t a-coming.” 

Julius was thus silenced ; and in the evening, as 
the four distinguished brothers and their father were 
having a family talk by themselves, Beau — being the 
leading spirit of the Cackle family — said to the 
brothers who had been pleading in behalf of 
Isaac, — 

“ Listen to me, Tony, and you too, Ciss. Do you 
want to succeed, or to spoil your good luck ?” 

“ Of course we want to succeed,” they replied. 

“Well, then, leave Isaac to his fate. Never un- 
dertake to lift a fallen man; never associate your 
fortunes with an unlucky dog like Isaac, by trying to 
help him when luck is so set against him. Bad luck is 
contagious, I tell you. Don’t you touch any one 
that has it, — any more than if he had the leprosy : 

* Room for the leper! room! — make way for the 
unlucky man !’ ” 

The brothers and the old man were so impressed 
with the wisdom and eloquence of Beau’s injunctions, 
that they were afraid to mention their old comrade’s 
name, and never again spoke of getting him out of 
prison. 

9 * 


102 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ He will be exchanged, anyhow, when the time 
comes,” Julius once ventured to say to his brother, 
Colonel Mark Antony Cackle. 

“ Of course he will ; indeed, he might already be on 
his way up,” said Tony ; and with fhis consolatory 
remark they justified their ingratitude in their own 
minds, and were very glad to forget Isaac. 

The philosophy of Beau was corroborated by daily 
increasing prosperity. No sooner was the unlucky 
Isaac dismissed from their thoughts, than fortune, 
which had certainly smiled on them, seemed to be in 
a constant broad grin with the Cackles. 

The two members of Congress — Beau and Tool — 
were making money as fast as if by magic. Dr. 
Norval had put in the capital, and the brothers had 
got several Government contracts, in other persons’ 
names, by which they made enormous profits. The 
Cackles would certainly be rich, and renowned, and 
influential, at the same time. Beau and Tool were 
foremost among the political leaders of the day; 
whilst Julius and Tony made themselves famous, 
and their names were in the newspapers all the time 
for deeds of daring surpassed by no one in modern or 
ancient warfare. If I were to recount in detail their 
wonderful achievements as minutely as an impartial 
press did at the time, I would fill these insignificant 
pages with them. But I am not so ambitious. I 
will only record briefly — though not chronologically, 
for the event happened at a later date — how Julius 
Caesar Cackle, like the great Darius the First, as- 
cended higher in the path of glory, and became 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


103 

greater, through the humble agency of a horse : the 
neighing of a horse. 

It happened — I think, but a few months after the 
battle of Bull Run — that, at one of the greatest 
battles ever fought by men determined to destroy 
each other, General Julius Cackle commanded a divi- 
sion temporarily. On that memorable day the gen- 
eral was riding a horse which had been captured 
from the rebels. This horse happened to be the 
mate and companion of another horse which a rebel 
officer was riding on the same day right in front of 
General Cackle’s division. 

There was a lull in the firing of the wing where 
General Cackle’s troops were fighting. Columns 
were changing position ; and by a movement of the 
rebel troops, before General Cackle knew it he and 
his staff were in close proximity to the rebel line. 

Suddenly the neighing of a horse was heard very 
distinctly. At the sound of that neigh, the ears of the 
general’s horse became erect. The general spurred 
the charger toward his own division ; but the horse 
turned suddenly around, and, taking the bit in his 
teeth, ran, as if frenzied, toward the point whence 
the neighing had come. 

The gallant Cackle pulled the bridle with all his 
might, in vain. Then he shouted to the running 
horse to stop : also in vain, so far as the horse was 
concerned. But the staff, seeing their general charg- 
ing the enemy so gallantly and heroically, thought 
that he, with his characteristic perspicacity, had dis- 
covered some splendid opportunity to make a bril- 


104 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


liant charge, and was now shouting to them to come 
on. So they all shouted also, and charged after him. 
The two or three regiments which stood nearest 
followed the staff, and then the whole division fol- 
lowed the regiments, though they had received orders 
to make a different movement, and were now waiting 
the command to advance. The rebels were so sur- 
prised at this mad charge, that they broke ranks, and, 
becoming disorganized, fled to the centre of their line, 
leaving the heroic Cackle in possession of the artil- 
lery and munitions, and master of the field. 

General Cackle was the hero of the day. 

His gallant charge had turned the tide of victory 
in favor of the right cause. 

The valiant general was thanked by the com- 
mander-in-chief on the battle-ground, — the news- 
papers said, — and the President wrote him an Auto- 
graph letter. His friends said that the general ought 
to receive the thanks of Congress, and that some 
poet ought to compose an ode on his exploit like 
Tennyson’s “ Charge of the Six Hundred.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


105 


C.HAPTER XVIII. 

LAVINIA TO THE RESCUE. 

Lavinia’s heart pranced like a war-horse at the 
sound of martial music, making the chest of the 
maiden resound with its galloping. Her patriotic 
fire spread to the Misses Cackle, until nothing but 
making sacrifices for their country’s cause would 
satisfy them ; and Lucretia and Artemisia, — the two 
eldest of the Misses Cackle, — aided and abetted by 
Lavinia, prevailed upon old Mrs. Cackle to accom- 
pany them to Washington, where they would devote 
themselves to the care of the sick and wounded. 
When this heroic resolution became known all over 
the land, many were the matrons and maidens who, 
impelled by the same sentiments, wrote and came in 
person to enlist under Mrs. Cackle’s patriotic banner. 

For weeks and weeks, the Misses Cackle and La- 
vinia canned beef-tea and made jellies and jams in 
the daytime, and lint and bandages and havelocks 
at night. They knitted a great number of stockings 
also. They made underclothes, and large, very large 
night-shirts ; for these patriotic ladies seemed to take 
measure by their enthusiasm, and very possibly im- 
agined that the heroes for whom the shirts were made 
must all be as large in size as in deeds. 

E* 


I0 6 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

“ As Julian is to be brought home, you will not go 
with us now/’ said Mrs. Cackle to Lavinia, as they 
were packing jellies and havelocks, and jams and 
stockings, and lint and canned beef-tea, in boxes to 
be sent to Washington. 

“Yes, I will go too. Julian has his mother and 
father to take care of him, whilst — just think of the 
poor, poor soldiers who will be sick and wounded 
far away from home and friends !” 

“ But, as the girls are in Europe now, Mrs. Norval 
might want you to stay to help her in case she has 
to sit up at nights with Julian.” 

“The doctor writes that Julian’s wounds* are not 
dangerous now ; that he is only very weak from loss 
of blood. Besides, if Jemima wants help, Lola will 
be here : the doctor \yrote for her to come.” 

“ I thought Mrs. Norval objected to let Lola come, 
on account of those spots she has on her skin,” said 
Miss Lucretia Cackle. 

“ That was before the girls went to Europe. The 
doctor says that those spots are not contagious and 
will all pass off in time. Lola began to have them 
soon after she went to school, nearly three years ago, 
and as yet no one has been infected by them. So they 
can’t be very contagious.” 

“ Emma Hackwell told me that her brother thinks 
Lola must belong to a tribe of Mexican Indians 
called ‘ Pintos,’ who are spotted,” said Artemisia. 

“ No, that ain’t so ! Mr. Hackwell said that if 
Lola was an Indian, the spots might indicate that she 
belonged to the Pintos,” Miss Lucretia observed. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


10 7 


“ But as the doctor says that she is not an Indian, 
then those ugly spots can’t be accounted for, except 
on the theory that they are some disease,” said Mrs. 
Norval, coming in and joining the conversation. 

“ With all due respect to the doctor, it seems to 
me clear, as you say, that the girl is either of the 
Pinto tribe, or her spots are a disease,” Mrs. Cackle 
averred, as she always did, in support of any opinion 
of Mrs. Norval. 

“ Of course. So, as Lavvy is going with you, I 
accepted Emma’s kind offer to come to help me with 
Julian, should I require it; and I told Mr. Hackwell 
I would send word to Emma when to come. In this 
manner, there will be no excuse for Lola to go near 
Julian’s room. I am glad Lavvy is going, so that no 
one but the doctor need go near the girl, and neither 
Julian nor Emma nor myself will have much to say 
to her.” 

“ Poor child, I pity her !” said Lavinia ; but, as 
Mrs. Norval frowned, none of the Cackles dared to 
venture upon any show of commiseration for the 
orphan, and all remained silent. Mrs. Norval re- 
marked that she had not heard lately whether the 
spots had disappeared, but she hoped they had, 
and Lola might be now all black or all white, no 
matter which, only not with those ugly white spots. 
Then she changed the conversation. 

********* 

The doctor and Julian arrived that night. The 
invalid was past danger from his wounds ; he was 
only very pale and weak from loss of blood. There 


I0 8 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


would be no necessity to sit up to watch him at night. 
The doctor and Jim had done that for him in Wash- 
ington the first two weeks after he was wounded. 
Still, Mrs. Norval sent for Emma. Mr. Hackwell 
had been so earnest in his request that Emma should 
be sent for to assist Mrs. Norval, that this lady, always 
glad to please Mr. Hackwell, had promised to do so. 

Miss Emma, therefore, came to be Julian’s nurse. 
His bed, for convenience, was placed in the back 
parlor. 

Two days after the arrival of Julian, the doctor re- 
ceived a telegram from the convent where Lola was, 
saying that she would leave for home that morn- 
ing. The doctor went to meet her at the depot in 
the evening. He loved the poor little orphan girl, 
whom he regarded now more than ever as his ward, 
since he had never received from Lebrun the state- 
ment of her dying mother, by means of which he had 
hoped to find her relatives and establish her identity. 

When the doctor met Lola, his kind heart beat 
with pleasure. The unfortunate spots had almost 
entirely disappeared; Lola’s skin was white and 
smooth, and she was very pretty. Still, there were 
some spots yet on her neck and arms, though almost 
imperceptible, and he feared that Mrs. N. would 
insist on regarding them as some sort of cutaneous 
disease. 

In this the doctor was not mistaken. His wife 
clung to the opinion that if Mr. Hackwell’s theory 
of the Pinto tribe was not the correct hypothesis, then 
the spots must be contagious. So when Lola came 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


IO9 

up to her to salute her with a kiss, Mrs. Norval drew 
back with a gesture of disgust, saying, — 

“Don’t, child! You know how afraid I am of 
your singular spots.” Then she added, addressing 
Julian, by whose side Emma sat, “ Take care, Julian ; 
don’t touch Lola’s hand ; we don’t know whether 
those spots might not be contagious.” 

“Oh, mother! how can you say that?” Julian 
pleaded. 

“ Lola has no right to feel hurt if we are afraid of 
being infected,” Mrs. Norval replied. 

“ Being damned !” exclaimed the doctor, banging 
the door as he left the room. 

“ No sooner does this girl come into my house than 
your father is changed from a courteous gentleman 
and a Christian, into a rough and a Hottentot,” said 
Mrs. Norval, not paying any attention to Lola, who, 
wounded and humiliated at the reception she met, 
had sunk on a chair and leaned her head upon the 
table. Julian looked at the bent form of the child, 
so expressive of mental suffering, and, lifting himself 
painfully on one elbow, said, — 

“ Come, Lola ; I am not afraid of those spots. In 
fact, I believe they are fabulous, — they don’t exist. 
Come, shake hands with me. I haven’t seen you for 
four years. If I wasn’t looking so forlorn, I would 
ask you to give me a kiss. Come.” 

Lola did not move or answer. 

“Is she crying?” Julian asked Emma, in a low 
voice ; but Lola heard him, and, raising her head, 
replied, — 


10 


no 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ No, sir ; I am not crying. I have cried enough 
in this house. I was making a resolve to cry in it as 
little as possible.” 

Julian smiled, as if amused or pleased. Mrs. Nor- 
val frowned ; and the doctor, who entered the room 
as Lola was speaking, said, — 

“ That is right. That is the resolve I would advise 
you to make. Cry as little as possible, and keep up 
your courage. You will be perfectly independent, 
and will want nobody’s favors. But whilst you are 
a child you will of course be more dependent, and 
that is my principal regret in going away, — that I 
have to leave you, my poor little girl. However, 
Julian will stand by you like a man. Come to my 
room. I wish to speak to you alone ; and, since we 
are not wanted here, and we have an hour before 
supper, let us have our talk now, at once.” 

“ I must speak to you first” said Mrs. Norval, 
rising in evident agitation, and detaining her hus- 
band. 

“ Well, what is it ?” the doctor inquired, stopping. 

“Not here. In your room.” Then turning to 
Lola, who was about to follow, she said to her, 
“Stay !” 

Lola stopped; but the doctor, who was walking 
behind his wife, made a sign to her to follow them. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Ill 


CHAPTER XIX. 

MRS. NORVAL’S HIGH PRINCIPLES ON THE RAMPAGE. 

Lola stood perplexed. She wished to obey the 
one through love, the other through fear. She looked 
back at Julian, as if asking him to advise her what 
to do. 

“ Obey my father, of course,” said Julian, in answer 
to her appealing look. “ He wishes you to follow 
him.” Lola went. 

There was no light in the doctor’s room. He be- 
gan to feel about for the match-box, but Mrs. Norval 
stopped him by impatiently exclaiming, — 

“ Never mind a light. What I have to say can be 
told irf a few seconds and in the dark. First, I wish 
to know if it is your intention to disclose to Lola 
what you know of her mother’s history. Judging 
by what you just now indicated, I infer that you are 
going to tell her that she is the owner of the money 
we have been spending, and impress her with the idea 
that we have been robbing her.” 

“ No ; for that is not so. I will tell the child nothing 
that is not true, and only what will be of service to * 
her in case I die or be killed, and do not return before 
she is of age.” 

“ I suppose you’ll tell her about the diamonds ?” 


1 12 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ No, I will not. But I hope that, if the girls delay 
their return, all those sets of jewelry will be sent 
back. It was very wrong in you to take advantage 
of my confidence to carry those jewels surreptitiously 
away, and still more blamable to allow your daughters 
to take them away to Europe, when you know they 
belong to Lola.” 

“ What of that ? Lola can’t wear them yet, and 
my daughters will not hurt the jewels.” 

“ But they might lose them, and we certainly can- 
not replace them. What pained me the most was to 
be obliged to assent to a falsehood to cover yours ; 
for you told Sinclair I had given you the order to 
keep the jewels, when it was only that he would send 
them for you and the girls to look at them, after which 
they would be returned. I never thought you capable 
of doing such a thing.” 

“ I did not come here to be scolded. If you had 
seen how crazy your daughters went when they saw 
the stones shining before their eyes, and how they 
cried, and begged, and implored, you would not be 
so hard on me for yielding to their tears. I knew 
full well that you would not spare me, but my two 
poor children almost went on their knees, and I con- 
sented. Mrs. Sinclair said she would take good care 
of the jewels, and always keep them in some bank. 
The set made all of diamonds, which is the most 
costly, they did not take. I trust you will say no- 
thing to Lola about this, for you will only be doing 
your children great injustice, and, possibly, harm. 
In fact, I don’t see any necessity of your telling her 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


113 

anything. If there be any need of disclosing any 
facts before your return, I can do that.” 

A ring at the door-bell, and the voices of Mr. and 
Mrs. Hackwell in the hall, interrupted Mrs. Norval, 
who was obliged to go to receive her friends and 
leave the doctor to his interview with Lola. As 
the stately matron passed out, the little girl stepped 
behind the door and was hidden from view. 

The doctor struck a light, and immediately saw by 
Lola’s position that she must have heard what had 
been said. He observed, quietly, — 

“ You heard what we said ?” 

“ Yes, sir, unintentionally. But you need not re- 
gret it, for I knew almost all. I remember very well 
that my mother told me she had given you all the 
gold we collected in the cave by the brook, and the 
diamonds she had kept for me. She told me they 
were for me, but also for you. I know you are taking 
care of those things for me.” 

“ Yes, Lola, I am ; and your jewelry shall be all 
returned to you, for I will tell Julian how everything 
is. Besides, I have put all down in my will, so that 
if Julian and I were to die, your gold and jewelry, 
as well as other property we have bought for you, all 
will be secure, and you will be rich and independent. 
Still, for all that, I wish you to obey my wife in my 
absence, for she will have charge of you, unless your 
relatives appear (well identified) to claim you, as it 
would be their right to do. But if none such come 
before I return, then my wife is to be your mother, — 
your guardian, I mean,” added he, correcting himself, 
10* 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


l }4 

— “ and you are to be guided by her until you are of 
age. When you are twenty-one years old, your 
property will be at your control. I have made every 
arrangement for that, and you will have no difficulty, 
even if my dear boy Julian loses his life during the 
war. Mr. Sinclair, your banker, and Mr. North, our 
lawyer, are both honorable men, and will take care of 
your interests. In the mean time, all I ask of you is 
to try to get along with my family as well as you can, 
for my sake. Will you do that?” 

“ Yes, sir; I will do anything you wish.” 

“ If I have not returned the day you are twenty- 
one, my will is to be opened. But if you are to be 
married, or if your relatives claim you before then, 
Mr. Sinclair and my wife are to open my will. Mr. 
Sinclair will render an account also of the increase 
of your wealth up to that time, and how your money 
is invested. In the mean time, I have arranged with 
Mr. Sinclair that he is to have four per cent, of the 
interest your capital is now paying, and keep six 
per cent, subject to my order or my wife’s order. 
This will only be taking ten per cent, of the profit 
of your money; and I felt justified in so doing, 
because your mother authorized me to take one- 
half of the whole. This I would not do; but I 
think six per cent, is not too much, and your ex- 
penses are defrayed from it. Do you understand 
me, Lola ?” 

“ Oh, yes, sir ! And I think you ought to take the 
half, as mamma asked you to do.” 

“ No, that would be too much. I told Sinclair to 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


115 

invest whatever was not used out of the six per cent. 
I don’t think we will spend it all, as we don’t live in 
such grand style. Even if we were in New York, 
we could not spend all, for you must know that your 
money has more than doubled, and Sinclair says 
he has some safe speculations in view by which he 
can treble it. He has bought you ever so many 
handsome houses in New York, too. But you must 
not speak about this to Mrs. Norval. I don’t want 
any one but Sinclair to know how much property 
you have. I told my wife you are to have a liberal 
allowance at school and all the money you wish when 
you come out. I am glad you are progressing so 
well in your studies. You must write to me as often 
as I let you know there is a chance of your letters 
reaching me. You must promise me that.” 

“ But where are you going, sir? and for how long ?” 
asked Lola, her eyes filling with tears. 

“ I am going to Africa, to Abyssinia, with Mr. 
Arthur Sinclair and other gentlemen from England. 
Heaven knows how long I shall be away. Very 
probably as long as the war lasts, unless some unfore- 
seen reason obliges me to return sooner. Pray for 
me that I may see you again in happier days.” 

Lola, prompted by an irresistible impulse, went up 
to her beloved guardian, and, throwing her arms 
around his neck, burst out crying, pouring on. him a 
shower of most emphatic kisses. The doctor was 
much moved ; he had not been caressed thus, with 
all this innocent fervor, since his children were little 
ones, — before their mother had scolded them, with 


!X 6 who would have thought it? 

cold dignity and great propriety, into learning to curb 
all emotion and check all show of feeling. Julian, boy 
though he was, had been the hardest to teach the 
self-restraint which Mrs. Norval thought the great 
desideratum in a well-organized family. But Julian 
was now a man, twenty-one years old, and he had 
long since ceased to caress his warm-hearted father, 
who had almost forgotten what it is to be caressed. 

The doctor was taken by surprise with this loving 
avalanche. His heart, however, quickly responded 
to it, throbbing and warming up at the passionate 
pressure of the little arms thrown around his neck, 
and the kisses which fell pellmell on his forehead, his 
eyes, his cheeks, his neck, and his ears. He pressed 
the little girl to his heart, and the man felt as much 
an orphan as did the child. 

He made her sit on his knees, and he laid on his 
breast the little head, so graceful and perfect in shape, 
with its wealth of silky, wavy black hair. The doctor 
had not felt as he now did for many years. Why 
could not his daughters be affectionate like this poor 
little orphan ? he thought. Because their mother 
hated anything like a show of affection, and impe- 
riously prohibited it. He sighed, and thought that 
if his home had not been made so cold and comfort- 
less perhaps he would not have felt so deeply the 
injustice of the threatened persecution for his polit- 
ical opinions, which was the cause of his voluntarily 
exiling himself from his country. Lola was the only 
creature who showed any affection for him, and now 
he was going to leave her exposed to the harshness 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


ii 7 

of Mrs. Norval. Poor little dear! He wished so 
much he could leave her elsewhere. 

They had been thus clasped in each other’s arms 
for some time, when they were startled by a voice at 
the door, saying, — 

“ Pretty business, doctor, you are discussing with 
your little Indian!” And the tall form of Mrs. Norval 
appeared in the door-way. 


CHAPTER XX. 

LAVINIA OUTDOES THE SPARTAN WOMEN. 

From those gloomy days in which the Rev. Hack- 
well and the Rev. Hammerhard proved so faithless, 
Miss Lavinia Sprig had devoted herself to raising 
canary-birds. The little innocents were the recipients 
of Miss Lavinia’s pent-up caresses, and thus were 
useful as well as ornamental, for no doubt they had 
saved Miss Lavvy from many a fit of hysterics. In 
the sunshine of Miss Lavvy’s love the canaries 
thrived, as though in a genial atmosphere ; and by 
the time the wicked Southerners fired upon Fort 
Sumter she had no less than twenty-one birds : viz., 
ten couples, and the ancestor of all, — an old widower 
called “ Jule,” short for Julian, and who was a very 
dignified singer. 

The little birds were Lavvy’s delight and amuse- 
ment. They knew many tricks which she had taught 


n8 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

them. They evidently loved her, judging from the 
way in which they shook their little wings and flew 
to meet her as soon as they heard her voice. They 
knew their own names, too, and would stand still if 
Lavvy, addressing them one by one, told them to be 
quiet, or would fly to her in the order in which she 
called them. 

When Lavinia’s patriotic enthusiasm reached its 
highest pitch, and when making lint, or havelocks, 
or beef-tea, or stockings, was not sufficient for the 
maiden’s sacred fervor, then the little darlings were 
neglected. With a sad heart Lavinia saw that she 
had neglected her pets, and that they didn’t sing as 
before. She was a conscientious maiden. She saw 
she had to decide between her country and her 
birds, and her heart seemed to collapse with pain. 

But Lavvy’s soul was Spartan. It soon leaped 
higher, and a sublime resolve invaded her spirit. 

“ Oh, my little darlings ! Must it indeed be so ? 
And yet, if I leave you, you will die of hunger, or 
some miserable cat might devour you, one by one ! 
Yes, my little angels, it is best that you pass away 
without pain. Sleep, sleep, sleep forever !” 

And Lavinia, though Spartan, or, what is the same, 
a New England lady trained to do her duty no matter 
how painful, clapped her hands to her face and wept. 
Poor Lavvy ! she was, after all, but a woman. 

When this natural ebullition of tenderness-Tlac! 
abated, Lavinia stood erect with clasped hands and 
fixed gaze, her mighty effort racking her bosom. She 
felt that what she was about to do, only an Electra, 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT* 


1 19 

or an Antigone, or some such classic heroine, could 
have done, outside of New England. Then she 
stalked with majestic stride towards the room in the 
garret where the doctor kept his fossils and chemi- 
cals. There, from several flasks standing on a shelf, 
she selected one labeled “ Chloroform .” 

Then she walked back to her room and sat by the 
side of the cages containing her pets. 

“You shall not be devoured by nasty cats. You 
shall not starve to death,” said she, tenderly. 

Then, with more courage than Virginius, — for he 
slew only one, and at one blow, — she took her little 
pets, one by one, calling each to her by its name, 
and, plunging their little heads inside the flask, put 
them to sleep, — the sleep that knows no waking, — 
one by one. 

She laid them in couples, in a row. Yes; there 
they were. They had innocently flown to her to be 
killed, as she uttered the celebrated names which 
Isaac had given them. Lavinia’s thoughts, as she 
contemplated her dead darlings, reverted to that 
day when Isaac, after naming all the males, was 
naming the females. He was saying, “ Now we have 
plenty of classic names, let us have some modern 
ones. This one is Jenny Lind ; this stately lady is 
Sontag ; this is Gazzaniga ; this one, with the white 
wings, is Carlotta Patti ; and this, with the golden 
necklace, is Adelina Patti, for she is my favorite ; and 
this one here is Grisi.” 

“ You might as well call them Clytemnestra, or 
Jezabel, or Messalina, as to give them the names of 


120 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


actresses,” Mr. Hackwell had said ; and Mrs. Norval 
had added, — 

“ I think so too ; and Lavinia, being a Christian 
girl, will not call her little birds by the names of 
horrid actresses. I positively object to it.” 

“ Stuff!” the doctor had said, and he and his wife 
had had a very warm discussion, for it had branched 
off to the subject of Isaac’s “corrupted love for the 
drama and foreigners,” which the doctor had 
fomented ; and from that they had passed to the 
equally obnoxious subject of Julian’s sojourn in 
Europe. 

On that day, on account of that discussion, her 
poor brother Isaac had resolved to go away from 
home, because Mrs. Norval was so severe. And 
now the innocent occasions of Isaac’s voluntary exile 
were all dead ! And Isaac, poor, unfortunate Isaac, 
where was he ? Was he dead ? Perhaps he was ! 

So lost was Lavinia in this sad labyrinth of remi- 
niscences, that she forgot to kill Jule, the widower, or 
to shut the door of the cage. Now Jule was left all 
alone. He had watched Lavinia with profound atten- 
tion all the while, and, as in all the days of his life 
he had never seen her act thus, he began to be sus- 
picious. Whilst Lavinia was lost in thought, Jule 
kept very quiet and very near the cage-door, but 
as soon as his mistress raised her head and looked 
towards him, he gave one little squeak and off he 
flew, Lavinia after him. For one moment he rested 
on the banister, then, as he saw his mistress come 
out from her room calling him, away he went down- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


121 


stairs and out of the front door. Down-stairs Lavinia 
rushed after the fugitive, with her eyes fixed on him, 
and outstretched arms, screaming, “Jule, Jule!” 
She felt she ran into some one. She looked. She 
was in the arms of the Rev. Mr. Hackwell. She 
fainted. 

“ Bless my soul !” exclaimed the Rev. Hack. 
“ What can possibly be the matter? Here, please, 
some water! Mrs. Norval ! Doctor! Emma!” called 
he ; but no one came. Hack put his hand to feel 
Lavvy’s heart’s pulsations, but he felt none. The 
reverend gentleman smiled, as if not at all alarmed, 
and yet not the slightest throb could he feel. He 
smiled, because he remembered having heard Mrs. 
Hackwell and Mrs. Hammerhard observe that La- 
vinia had a very handsome bust now, when, previous 
to the sudden prosperity of the Norvals, she was as 
flat as a pancake. And these ladies had said — all 
en famille , for they were the wives of divines and had 
to set a good example — that to the New York dress- 
makers Lavvy was indebted for her fine figure, etc. 
When the Rev. Hack remembered this, his thoughts, 
which had never been what should be in the head of 
a parson, got altogether very far from the church. 
He looked all around, and, seeing no one near, he 
thought he would experiment on Lavvy. He would 
try the effect of a kiss. 

“ If she is unconscious,” thought he, “ she will 
never know it ; and if she is pretending, she expects 
it.” 

So saying, his reverence applied his lips to those 

F II 


122 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


of the fainting Lavvy. She did not move ; she did 
not open her eyes ; but his reverence thought he saw 
a faint pink color rise to her face. He tried another 
kiss, and then another. Lavinia sighed, but did not 
open her eyes. 

“ This is becoming interesting,” thought the Pres- 
byterian divine. “ It seems that kisses are better than 
cold water for fainting maidens and he changed his 
position slightly, kneeling on one knee to approach 
Lavinia closer. But, in doing so, he turned his head 
a little, and perceived Lola standing by him with Jule 
the fugitive in her hand. 

• The reverend gentleman started, colored very red, 
and, dropping the form of Lavinia, rose to his feet. 
Lavvy, without the tender support of his arm around 
her waist, rolled down upon the carpet very ungrace- 
fully. 

“ How long have you been here ?” asked his reve- 
rence, frowning and looking uneasily about him. 

u Since you called,” Lola answered, roguishly. 

“ Why didn’t you speak, then ?” 

“ I didn’t think you would like to be interrupted.” 

“ What is the matter ? Who speaks of kissing me ? 
It is false ! Oh, the wicked bird ! Take him away ! 
No, he must die too ! He must not be left to be 
eaten by cats or starve to death !” Here a flood of 
tears and sobs came to relieve Lavinia’s heart. ‘Hack- 
well smiled ; Lola, amused, looked from one to the 
other. 

“ They are all dead! all! all! My two lovely 
Pattis went first !” sobbed Lavvy. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 12 $ 

“ But who killed them ?” asked Lola. 

“I did. I did it to -save them from pain, from 
the cat’s claws, from starvation! Jule, too, must 
die!” 

“ Oh, no ; please give him to me !” pleaded Lola. 
“ He is Julian’s namesake. I am perfectly sure that 
if you kill him, Julian will be killed too ; I know it!” 
said Lola, crying. And so earnest was she in* her 
entreaties that Lavvy yielded, and Jule was spared, 
becoming the property of Lola. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

JULIAN AND HACKWELL INSPECT THE HORRID SPOTS. 

Julian was out of danger. A few days more, and 
he would be strong enough to join his regiment. He 
leaned on his stick when he walked about ; but still 
he did walk all over the house, the flower-garden, 
and the lawn. He had been very anxious to get well 
during the first days after his arrival, which anxiety 
was not at all complimentary to his devoted nurse 
Emma. But now, when he was better, he hated the 
idea of going; hated to think that soon after he left 
his father would go too, and that he might never 
return. At first Julian had tried to dissuade him 
from the idea of such an expedition. But when the 
doctor explained to him his reasons for going, Julian 


124 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


ceased to object. Father and son had several good 
long talks together all alone, and they understood 
each other perfectly. 

Julian would, therefore, have gone in comparative 
peace of mind ; but his leaving in that manner did 
not suit Mrs. Norval. There was a thing that must 
be settled before he went. 

“Julian, you and I have got to settle that point,” 
said Mrs. Norval two or three days before the one on 
which Julian was to leave. 

“ Yes, mother, you have told me that several times. 
Now, however, Lola and I are to play a game of 
chess. Come, Lola, your men are all arranged.” 

“There is Mr. Hackwell coming,” suggested Mrs. 
Norval ; “ play with him.” 

“ Why should I ? I prefer to play with Lola.” 

Mrs. Norval colored with annoyance, and looked 
towards Emma, who sat by the window reading; 
then, with a cold glitter in her eyes, at Lola, who 
stood waiting for Julian to arrange his chessmen. 

“ Do you think Lola will never have those spots 
any darker? Will they remain so?” said Mrs. 
Norval. 

“ Bother the spots ! Come, Lola, to the light ; let 
me see those frightful spots !” ejaculated Julian. 

Lola’s face was crimson with shame and resent- 
ment, but she did not even look at Mrs. Norval. She 
went with Julian, and stood in the full light of the 
sun pouring through the window. Mr. Hackwell 
came in and approached her also. 

Oh, Mrs. Norval, if you had known what was to 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


125 

be the consequence of this examination, I am sure 
you would never have brought it about. 

Julian looked at Lola’s eyes and lips, and he forgot 
all about the spots. His gaze became fixed on hers, 
and a thrill went through his whole frame from the 
little soft hand he held in his. 

And the reverend Hackwell, — why did he become 
so pale ? Lola fixed her eyes on him for a few seconds 
only, and then withdrew her gaze. She was a child, 
only fifteen years of age. She had no design in her 
look. But her soul was up in revolt, and was 
grandly shining in her glorious eyes, making elo- 
quent speeches, which Julian and Hackwell alone 
seemed to hear or understand. But neither found an 
answer. Their feelings were too deep for words. 

“ Well, what makes you both so silent ?” exclaimed 
Mrs. Norval, knitting vigorously. “ I guess you see 
I am right, and that it is a cutaneous disease peculiar 
to the Indians of her tribe.” 

Julian swept off the board the chessmen arrayed 
for battle, tumbling bishops and queens irreverently 
into their box, saying, — 

“ It is stifling here ! Come, Lola, let us go and have 
our game of chess under your favorite maple-tree. 
I wish to run the risk of infection all alone.” And 
he marched off, followed by Lola, to the end of the 
garden. 

Their game had not progressed far when Mrs. 
Norval, carrying her everlasting knitting, and followed 
by Emma and her brother, came to sit by, under the 
same tree. Mr. Hackwell observed, as he sat down, — 
11* 


I2 6 WHO would have thought it? 

“ Julian is right in selecting this spot for his game. 
The breeze is lovely here, Mrs. Norval. Your boy 
is extremely judicious.” 

Julian made a wrong move. Lola took his queen. 

“ Don’t lose your head next,” sneered Mrs. Norval. 

“If it goes with my queen, I am willing,” Julian 
retorted. Lola said, “Checkmate.” Mr. Hackwell 
applauded. 

“You must give me my revenge,” said Julian, re- 
arranging the men. “ I played like a schoolboy, not 
at all like a soldier.” 

“ Emma, take Lola’s place. I have an errand for 
you, Lola ; come with me,” said Mrs. Norval, mo- 
tioning to Lola to go before her. 

The doctor had not intended to leave for three 
weeks yet ; but on that day he received letters from 
Washington which made him change his mind and 
resolve to go within the next four days. He met his 
wife as that lady was coming with Lola, thinking 
what on earth she should do to keep her away from 
Julian. Even Mrs. Norval could not deny — to her- 
self — that Lola was growing prettier every day. As 
this fact became more and more palpable, the hatred 
of the Christian matron increased in proportion. She 
had always hated and despised the black creature 
ever since she had appeared before her eyes encircled 
so tenderly by her husband’s arm. But Lola was rich, 
and for her money’s sake the matron had concealed 
the throbbings of aversion of her mercenary heart. 
For money Mrs. Norval would do almost anything ; 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT' IT? 


127 


but the idea of Julian taking a fancy to Lola, when 
she wanted him to marry Emma, was now insupport- 
able ta her. 

“ Wait for me in the library,” said she to Lola. 
“ Doctor, come here in the parlor; I must speak to 
you about this affair of Julian and Emma.” 

Lola sank into a chair in the hall. She did not do so 
on purpose to listen, but because her strength failed 
her when she heard these words of Mrs. Norval. 

“ There is no use,” continued Mrs. Norval, “in 
denying that Julian is growing more and more fond 
of Lola and less and less so of Emma, and that 
won’t do, doctor.” 

“ Why? It seems to me you were the first to think 
that Lola would be a good match, and that, too, when 
she was dark and young, and when nobody could be 
sure that she would grow up to be so beautiful.” 

“You are very provoking, doctor. You know 
why I said that. We were poor then. But now I 
suppose you have money invested somewhere, for 
you are too conscientious,” — here she smiled de- 
risively, — “ too scrupulous, to be spending so freely 
if the money wasn’t yours. That being the case, there 
is no reason why Julian should not marry one of his 
own race and religion. I hate foreigners and papists.” 

“ We all know that.” 

“ Yes, you know it, and yet you bring this girl to 
my house. Sometimes I think the gold wasn’t hers, 
and that you told me that story to make me put up 
with her.” Mr. Hackwell had suggested the idea, — 
Mrs. Norval was not original. Seeing that the doctor 


I2 8 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


did not look in the least disconcerted, she continued : 
“Julian is to leave to-morrow, and he has not said 
one word yet to Mr. Hackwell about his engagement 
with Emma. I think you ought to arrange it, if 
Julian feels bashful about it.” 

“//” exclaimed the doctor. 

“Yes, you. Why not?” 

“ Because I don’t like the match. The girl is well 
enough, I suppose, but I don’t like Hackwell, and 
will not help my boy to become his brother-in-law.” 

Mrs. Norval, for some moments, was too angry to 
speak ; but when she was able to articulate, she said, — 
“ But I think it is your duty to insist on your boy’s 
keeping his pledged word. I expect almost any- 
thing from you ; but I must say I did not think you 
would countenance your son in violating his word 
of honor.” So saying, the indignant matron went 
back to the party under the maples. 

The doctor came out of the parlor, and, seeing Lola 
sadly leaning her head on a table, said, kindly, — 

“ Lola, I am going to-morrow with Julian as 
far as New York, and will take the first steamer 
for Europe. Come to my room. Let us have one 
last talk alone while I pack up.” 

Mrs. Norval resumed her seat, her knitting, and her 
conversation with her revered pastor, and thought 
Lola safe in the library waiting her orders. 

Lola, in the mean time, was busy helping the 
doctor to pack his trunks and valises. After an hour 
and a half thus employed, the doctor said, lighting a 
cigar,— 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT JT? 


129 


“ I thank you, my dear. You are certainly very 
good at packing up. Now I have only to put away 
a few papers and I am ready. I shall go and tell 
Julian that I am going with him.” 

When the doctor joined the party under the trees, 
it had increased. Mr. and Mrs. Hammerhard and 
Mrs. Hackwell were there, and all were excitedly 
discussing what seemed to be a topic of great interest. 

Julian and Emma had finished their game. Julian 
had been sulky and indifferent at first, and allowed 
her to take his queen, two knights, and a bishop, 
all with two pawns. Then he savagely turned his 
men around and checkmated her in three moves. 

A letter just received from Mrs. Cackle, from 
Washington, was the cause of the excitement. Mrs. 
Cackle had written the day after her arrival at the 
capital of the great republic. She could not have 
slept, she said, if she had not written at once. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

“the awful little bell” DESCRIBED BY MRS. 

CACKLE. 

Mrs. Cackle’s letter v as addressed to the wife of 
• her beloved pastor, Mrs. Hackwell, but with the re- 
quest that the contents should be made known to her 
beloved friend, Mrs. Norval ; “ for, though my son 
would be furious if he knew I divulged State secrets,” 


F 


130 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


the old lady said, “still, I cannot keep such an awful 
thing from Mrs. Norval. My heart tells me that 
Mrs. Norval ought to know in what danger her hus- 
band is ; for though the doctor is imprudent, and has 
so much pity for the rebels, still, I remember he also 
had pity for the colored people, and always gave 
them money when they asked him. But all this will 
not do him any good (my son Beau says), nor his 
having helped to raise troops for the Union neither. 
He has written treasonable letters, my son Beau says, 
and he will be imprisoned if he don’t leave the 
country. And my son Tool says that they are after 
these letters, and will have them. And Beau says 
that the doctor is a friend of the Habeas Corpuses (I 
don’t know who they are) ; and I am sorry, for they 
can’t be good, as both my boys hate them. But the 
worst of all is, that there is a powerful man here in 
this city — I heard my two sons talking about him — 
a very powerful man, who, under the Constitution, has 
the right to ring a bell and send any man to prison. 
If I understood right, I think he is going to ring 
his awful little bell, and send the Habeas Corpuses all 
in irons to Fort Lafayette. All the telegraph-wires are 
attached to that little bell, so by just touching it with 
the tip of his finger, and mentioning the name of the 
person the great man wants to send to prison, all the 
wires repeat the name, and no matter where the man 
may have gone to hide himself, he is found, at any 
hour of the night, and put in irons and carried off to 
a dark dungeon. I couldn’t sleep, thinking they 
might do so with Dr. Norval, who got my boys into 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


131 

Congress, and lent them money, and made us all rich. 
But he will certainly be taken as soon as the great 
man of the bell takes a notion to do it. I haven’t 
told poor Lavvy about this awful little bell, for I know 
she loves the doctor so much. It will go rather 
hard with Julian too, I know, and poor Lavvy is so 
worried about Isaac, who is yet somewhere in prison 
in the South. But she is as determined as ever to 
serve her country, and we are going to begin with 
our hospital work to-morrow/’ Here the old lady 
added two pages more about the hospitals and the 
wounded, and concluded by begging Mrs. Hackwell 
to burn the letter, and never let any of her children 
know that she wrote it. 

“ I am really very thankful to Mrs. Cackle,” said 
the doctor, when Mrs. Hackwell had finished reading. 

“ I don’t understand what she means by the awful 
little bell which the great man rings under the Con- 
stitution,” said Mrs. Norval, “ and putting the Habeas 
Corpuses in irons.” 

“ Poor Mrs. Cackle ! how innocent she is in her 
sarcasm!” the doctor said, smiling. “ No, it is not 
easy to understand such things in this country, but 
we’ll get used to it by-and-by. I am all ready to go ; 
so if the powerful man is to ring his little bell for me 
he will have to make haste.” 

Just then the dinner-bell rang, and, laughing at 
the coincidence, the party broke up. Mr. and Mrs. 
Hackwell remained to dinner ; the Hammerhards de- 
clined and went home. 

In the twilight, Mrs. Norval sat in her favorite seat 


132 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


at the deep bay-window. Julian was walking in the 
front garden with Lola. Mrs. Norval called him, 
gave him a seat beside her, and said, — 

“Your father is going away, and you also. I 
think before you both leave, this matter between 
you and Emma ought to be settled.” 

“ I don’t know what you mean,” said Julian. 

“You ought to know, Julian, for you have been 
encouraging Emma for five years, and I think it is 
time that you were formally engaged and that the 
engagement was announced.” 

“ Goodness, mother! Since I made love to Emma 
in verse, and offered her my heart because it rhymed 
beautifully with * dart ,’ and * my ha7id' because it 
rhymed with ‘ fairy -land ,’ and which offer Emma had 
the good sense to decline in very matter-of-fact prose, 
I have never spoken a word to her about marriage.” 

“Emma did not refuse you; she only allowed you 
to postpone your becoming engaged until you should 
be twenty-one. You are of that age now, and as a 
man of honor you should of course renew your offer. 

They expect it ” 

“Who are ‘ they' f” 

“Emma and her brother, of course.” 

“ I thought so. It can’t be that Emma wants to 
catch a man and hold him for life with the flimsy 
meshes woven out of a boy’s folly. I hope she is 
too kind-hearted and too much of a lady to do that. 
No, mother, I do not love Emma. My boyish fancy 
for her has long since passed away. I can’t marry 
her.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


133 


“ Your fancy has only passed from her to another, 
I fear. But honor is as binding to an honorable man 
as the marriage-vows. To my way of thinking, you 
are pledged to Emma, and cannot break off from that 
pledge honorably.” 

“ Julian, come out here a moment. I want to 
speak to you,” said the doctor’s voice from outside. 
Julian arose to go, but his mother caught him by the 
arm, saying, — 

“You must not go without settling this matter 
in one way or another. I have promised that you 
would, and / at least know how to keep my word.” 

“ Very well, mother, keep^your word, and settle 
the matter by saying that I have considered it settled 
since I was sixteen years old, and that I do not wish 
to revive it.” 

“ This is outrageous ! Emma can sue you for a 
breach of promise ; I shall be her principal witness.” 

“Very well; let her try it. But I don’t think she 
will. The parson is too good a lawyer to try that.” 

Mrs. Norval saw that threats were of no avail. She 
changed her tactics. She began, — 

“ Oh, Julian ! you would not break that girl’s heart 
with disappointment and shame ? At least, let mat- 
ters be as they are, and let her refuse you if she will.” 

“ But it appears she won’t,” said he, laughing. 

“ She has too much self-respect, of course, to wish 
to force herself on you when she sees that you have 
changed. Let this year pass, and if your engage- 
ment is not renewed now, when you are twenty-one, 
she will then, of course, see that— that — you don’t 
12 


134 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


wish it to be renewed, and she will consider herself 
free to marry any one else.” 

“ Well, as for that, I have no objection. Let she 
and I part good friends, and that is all I ask.” 

“ I’ll tell her so. But don’t hurt her feelings.” 

“ I hope not. I don’t want to offend the girl. She 
has always been most kind to me.” 

“ Well, well, you may go now.” 

And Julian, glad to get away so cheaply, was off 
with a bound. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

“ IT MAY BE FOR YEARS, AND IT MAY BE FOREVER.” 

“I galled you to me,” said the doctor, when 
Julian joined him, “because I overheard one or two 
words which made me think that your mother is 
after you, as she was after me this morning, about 
your marrying Emma Hackwell. Now, I want you 
to understand that you can marry that girl if you 
wish, but I cannot give a willing consent.” 

“Shake hands on that,” said Julian, laughing. 
The doctor gave his hand, and continued, — 

“ I am very glad you don’t want to marry her, but 
I am afraid that they’ll make you.” 

“ Make me !” exclaimed Julian, arching his brows 
in disdainful surprise. 

“ Yes ; for Hackwell has set his heart on that 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


135 


match, and he is as cunning and unprincipled as — 
as — the devil. You look out for him. He has more 
influence over your mother than any one else, — least 
of all myself, — and they’ll circumvent you somehow, 
if you are not on the lookout.” 

“ But how ? What can they do ?” 

“ I don’t know ; but, to prevent mischief as much 
as I can, I wish you to promise me, solemnly, — to 
swear it, — that you will not marry Emma until I 
return. If they drive you to the wall, you can 
say that you will not marry before my return, and 
without my consent, because you took an oath that 
you would not do it. Then, if Emma chooses to 
wait until I come, she may. You will, of course, 
leave her at liberty to marry any one else if she 
pleases.” 

“ Certainly. And I take the oath,” said Julian, 
raising his hand and slowly saying, “ I solemnly 
swear not to marry Emma Hackwell before my father 
returns, and never without his consent ! I shall keep 
my oath , father.” 

Mrs. Norval could not hear the words, but she saw 
Julian’s gestures. She feared the doctor was making 
him promise to marry Lola. A great fear seized her. 
She opened the window and called out, “James, 
Julian, — tea is ready.” 

Lola did not make her appearance at the tea-table. 
The doctor inquired for her, and sent a servant to 
call her. She was not in her room. She was not in 
the house. She did not come. 

Mrs. Norval and Emma did all the talking during 


! 3 6 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

tea. The doctor and Julian scarcely spoke. And no 
sooner were they from the table than Julian went out 
to look for Lola. 

“ Don’t stay long, if you are going out,” said Mrs. 
Norval ; “ several people will be here this evening to 
bid you good-by.” 

“ I am not going far. I shall be back in a short 
time.” And, so saying, he directed his steps towards 
the maple - trees, the favorite spot where Lola was 
sure to be found. Julian walked upon the turf, 
avoiding the graveled walks, so that Lola should 
not hear his approach. 

She, sitting on the turf, her head leaning on the 
bench, was sobbing convulsively, all alone. 

“Why are you weeping so bitterly?” said Julian, 
sitting by her and leaning his elbow on the bench 
where she reclined her head. She looked up, fright- 
ened, but seeing Julian alone, and not the dreaded 
Mrs. Norval, she answered, — 

“ Because you and your father are going away, and 
I shall be left all alone; and — and — because — be- 
cause •” 

“Because why ?” 

“ Because- Oh, I can’t tell you !” 

“Yes, you must, else I shall think you don’t care 
for me and have no confidence in me.” 

“ Don’t say that, please. I’ll tell you. I heard 
Mrs. Norval talking with Emma and Mr. Hackwell, 
and they said you are to marry Emma.” 

“ And do you wish me to marry her ?” 

“Oh, no /” said Lola, emphatically. Then, think- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


i3 7 

ing she had betrayed herself, added, “Unless you 
would be unhappy without her.” 

“ I wouldn’t be unhappy without her, but I shall 
certainly be very wretched without you!' 

“ Oh, Julian, don’t make fun of me ! I am a child 
yet in years, I know, but I have felt so much in my 
lonely life that I have learned to think more seriously 
than you suppose:” 

“ I am not making fun of you, Lola. Don’t think 
so meanly of me. Listen to me. I don’t want you 
to promise to marry me, because you are young, 
and you will, in all probability, meet some one whom 
you will like better. But if in two years you don’t 
like any one better, will you then promise to be my 
wife ?” 

“Your mother says you are engaged to Emma,” 
said Lola, in a scarcely audible voice, so agitated was 
she. 

“ I know she says so, but it is not the truth. She 
has a fancy for Emma ; that’s all.” 

“ But you did love her.” 

“ Yes, when I was but a child. She was the only 
girl I knew, and I fancied I loved her, and wrote 
verses to her. But let me tell you, I never felt for 
her as I do for you ; and, child though you are, you 
have more power over me than any woman I have 
ever met. I know I shall love you with all my 
soul, all my life, and — and, Lola, I thought you 
might care for me a little. Can’t you ? Tell me 
you’ll try. I may never come back, you know. 
You might give me the pleasure of thinking you 


138 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


love me, and, if I am killed, I will have that comfort 
before I die.” 

Lola could not resist this last argument. She told 
him, in her impetuous, passionate language, how she 
had loved him all the time, even when she saw he 
was in love with Emma, and how she had cried in the 
misery of her heart because she thought he despised 
her. She said, — 

“ I saw that your mother detested me, and Ruth 
had a sort of repugnance for me, and Miss Lavvy and 
Mattie, though they didn’t dislike me, never took any 
interest in me. No one but your father was kind to 
me. I could bear all this, but I could not bear to 
think that to you, too, I was an object of aversion be- 
cause my skin was black. And yet I was too proud 
to tell you that the blackness of my skin would wear 
off ; that it was only stained by the Indians to prevent 
our being rescued. My mother also was made to 
stain her lovely white skin all black. Once, when 
the dye had worn off our faces, we were followed by 
some soldiers who were encamping near our village. 
From that time, the Indians never permitted the dye 
to wear off our faces. As soon as it became a little 
lighter, they immediately made us paint ourselves 
over again. I wanted to tell you this many times, 
for, though I didn’t care whether I was thought black 
or white by others, I hated to think that you might 
suppose I was Indian or black. But I did not say 
anything to you, because I thought you might laugh 
at me, and not believe me.” 

“And you were wrong, because my father had 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


1 39 

already told me that you are of pure Spanish de- 
scent.” 

“ But I often heard your mother say things by 
which I could plainly see she did not believe I was 
white. And when the dye began to wear off, and my 
skin got all spotted, she sent me away, because she 
thought I had some cutaneous disease, and she said 
that Mr. Hackwell said that perhaps I belonged to 
the ‘ Pintos/ and my skin was naturally spotted.” 

" You must forget all that. I always believed what 
my father said about you.” 

The conversation would probably have continued 
much longer,^ — for Julian had forgotten the visitors 
announced by his mother, — but that the doctor now 
came to look for them, and was guided by the sound 
of their voices to where they were. 

“ Lola, does not your school commence very soon ?” 
said he, sitting on the bench. 

“ Yes, sir ; in about four days, on the first Monday 
in September. I am all ready to go. Mrs. Norval 
says I had better go the day after you leave.” 

“ And why so ? If you are ready, let us start to- 
gether. We’ll take you to the convent, so that I may 
present Julian to the mother Superior, and tell her 
that during my absence he is to take care of you. 
Then they will let him see you whenever he can find 
time to make you a visit.” 

It is needless to say how glad the two young people 
were to hear this. Lola could not repress the im- 
pulse to throw her arms around the doctor’s neck 
again, saying he was “ the kindest and dearest guard- 


140 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


ian that ever was or could be” — a performance and 
speech which Julian witnessed and heard well pleased, 
but at the same time thinking he would like to be 
in his father’s place. 

Mrs. Norval’s frowns and sneers and protestations 
availed naught. Lola rode off next morning between 
the doctor and Julian to the depot, carrying Jule in 
triumph. 

“The deceitful, treacherous vixen ! To think that 
she packed her trunk and got herself ready without 
my knowing it,” said Mrs. Norval to the silent Emma, 
who had not failed to see Julian’s radiant smile and 
the glow of his eyes when he handed Lola to the 
carriage. 

Mrs. Norval’s chagrin was so great that she had 
not one kind word to say to her husband, whom she 
might never see again; and to her son she coldly ex- 
pressed a wish that he “might not be shot.” She was 
indignant with both. They had plotted against her, 
and that she could not forgive. 

Meantime, Lola and her escort arrived at the con- 
vent, where she was received most kindly. The doc- 
tor presented Julian to the Superior, and begged that 
Lola should be permitted to see him whenever he 
called. As Lola was the doctor’s ward, during his 
absence his son could, of course, take his place with 
propriety. 

The parting was painful, but Lola felt that she 
would see Julian and hear from him occasionally. 
The doctor promised to write also. 

Next day the doctor was on the steamer on his 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

way to Europe, and Julian was sadly riding towards 
the place where his company was picketed. 

On the window-ledge of Lola’s room sang Jule the 
widower ; but Lola did not listen, for she was thinking 
of his namesake. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

LAVINIA’s EXPERIENCES IN WASHINGTON. 

Miss Lavinia and the Cackles were now experi- 
enced nurses. They had acquitted themselves with 
great credit for more than a year in the care of the 
sick and wounded. Misses Lucretia and Artemisia 
Cackle, assisted by their mamma, had charge of 
the largest ward in the largest hospital ; Miss La- 
vinia had the next; and all did their duty — as only 
ladies brought up Puritans know how — to the full 
measure; the gloomier the duty the better accom- 
plished. 

The winter of 1862 had come, and no tidings 
yet of Isaac. Lavinia wrote to her sister for instruc- 
tions. Mrs. Norval answered that she thought the 
best thing that could be done would be for Lavvy to 
go in person to see the delegation from their State, 
and try to interest some of their political friends. She 
herself would have gone to Washington to help 
Lavvy, but for the fact that, as the doctor had 
behaved so imprudently and absurdly, she did not 
think she would be well received by “the powers that 


142 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


be.” Moreover, dear Mrs. Hackwell had just lost a 
child, was very ill, and she and Emma were taking care 
of her, as Mr. Hackwell had accepted the appointment 
of commissary in General Julius Cackle’s staff, and 
was now on the Potomac. 

This was news indeed. And the heart of Lavvy, 
if it did not gallop, trotted a little, I am sure, as 
if its impulse was to run towards the Potomac. 
Then it stopped its trot. It stood still, as Lavvy 
thought how cruel it was in Hack — the divine ! — 
to pass through Washington and not see her ! But 
Lavvy — as I said — was a girl who had been brought 
up to look rigidly at her duty, and rigidly to execute 
it, no matter if it went on like the Juggernaut car, 
crushing all her feelings. 

Moreover, Lavvy wanted nothing better than plenty 
of employment for her exuberant moral energies 
and redundant force of will. The prospect of a tussle 
with a cabinet member or two, and plenty of skir- 
mishes with delegations, did not terrify the strong 
soul of Lavvy. 

She, moreover, felt au fait in all matters pertaining 
to high society. She had been to all sorts of recep- 
tions and parties, Presidential, diplomatic, senatorial, 
etc. She dressed well. Mrs. Norval stinted no one 
now, for she thought that if the money they were 
spending was Lola’s, there was no need for her to 
economize. On the contrary, the more money they 
put to use, the more would be left in their hands 
when Lola was twenty-one. 

Therefore, even poor Lavvy had carte-blanche 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


143 

now with New York milliners, and jewelers, and shoe- 
makers, and no end of pin-money. 

When Lavvy received her sister’s letter of instruc- 
tions, with true feminine instinct she prepared her- 
self, as every lady should do, b.y making the most of 
her looks. 

Before she sallied forth in all the glory of a careful 
and expensive toilet, Lavvy dutifully paid her morn- 
ing visits to her sick and wounded. 

She cheered the desponding, encouraged the faint- 
hearted, scolded the refractory, punished the dis- 
obedient, and provided for the comfort of all. 

It was Lavvy’s pride to hear the doctor in charge 
of her ward say that her sick and wounded were the 
best attended of all his patients. And so they were ; 
for, as Lavinia had been properly brought up, she 
loved her patients. They were the impersonation of 
duty ; she was, therefore, bound to love them. The 
more groans and sighs and lamentations she heard, 
the more cheerful she became in the sublime sense 
of duty . And when the amputating-knife had to be 
used unsparingly, then Lavvy was a perfect Mark 
Tapley, and was “jolly” in the midst of surrounding 
misery. I do not mean that the good-hearted Lavvy 
could .rejoice in the sufferings of others, but she re- 
joiced in the thought that she could alleviate them. 

Now, when her duties as hospital matron were over 
for the morning, she ordered her carriage to the door, 
and, stepping into it, said to the driver, — 

“To the War Department.” 

On arriving there, Lavinia went up to ask for the 


144 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Secretary of War. She was shown by an usher into 
a room, where a very young man (an officer of the 
army, to judge by his brass buttons) was writing be- 
fore a desk. 

As army officers used to be proverbially gallant 
and polite to ladies, Lavvy thought the very young 
man would rise and offer her a chair. But the officer 
was a captain, and a brevet- colonel, though so very 
young , and, moreover, was “ all right with the Secre- 
tary,” and, therefore, what need had he of being polite 
to anybody ? It is so refreshing to snub some one 
for the cringing we may have to do, and thus feel we 
are quits with mankind ! 

When Lavvy had been standing for some time, 
seeing that the very young man did not offer her a 
chair, she noiselessly took one, and sat there to wait 
for the young man to see her. After a long while, he 
suddenly looked up, and startled Lavvy by saying, — 

“ Your name ?” 

“Miss Lavinia Sprig,” said she; and her name 
had never sounded to her ears so insignificant, so un- 
aristocratic as at that moment when uttered in the 
now historical palace, before so haughty a personage, 
so resplendent in brass buttons. 

Evidently to the very young officer her name did 
not sound any more impressive than it did to Lavvy 
herself, for he said, with a slight curl of the lip, — 

“Unless you have important business with the 
Secretary, I cannot send in your name. Do you 
know him personally ? or have you any introductory 
letters ?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


145 


Lavinia replied that she did not have that honor, but 
that she wished to see the Secretary about exchang- 
ing her brother, Isaac Sprig, who had been captured 
at Bull Run over a year ago ; and that she was the 
sister-in-law of Dr. Norval. 

On hearing this name, the officer, who had con- 
tinued to write while Lavvy was speaking, looked up 
and asked, — 

“ Which Dr. Norval is that ? the Democrat, who 
has been writing letters against the government ?” 

“ No, sir; he never could have written against the 
government, for he always has loved his country 
with all his honest heart,” said Lavvy, in great agita- 
tion. “ I am sure no man has done more to defend 
the Union. He gave the money to raise three com- 
panies, and left more for his son to raise a whole 
regiment. And his son, Julian Norval, is now lieu- 
tenant-colonel of the regiment he raised with the 
money his father gave. If the doctor was against the 
government, he would not be helping to raise troops.” 

“ That may all be,” interrupted the young man, 
with hauteur, “ but, nevertheless, he has spoken and 
written disloyal sentiments. However, you wait here. 
I’ll ascertain if the Secretary will see you.” 

When the very young man had been gone about 
a quarter of an hour, he returned and said, “ The 
Secretary will see you presently,” and recommenced 
his writing. 

Lavinia was becoming very tired, and was reflect- 
ing that no matter how much a woman, in her 
unostentatious sphere, may do, and help to do, and 
g 13 


146 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


no matter how her heart may feel for her beloved, 
worshiped country, after all she is but an insignifi- 
cant creature, whom a very young man may snub, 
simply because he 'wears very shiny brass buttons 
and his uncle is in Congress. “What a miserable, 
powerless thing woman is, even in this our country 
of glorious equality! Here I have been sitting up 
at night, toiling, and tending disgusting sickness, 
and dressing loathsome wounds, all for the J.ove of 
our dear country, and now, the first time I come to 
ask a favor , — a favor , do I say? No. I come to 
demand a right,— see how I am received !” 

Poor Lavvy ! she had no experience about asking 
favors of great men. She had believed all she had 
read in printed political speeches delivered just before 
election times. 

Her gloomy reflections were interrupted by the 
laughter of several gentlemen who came out of the 
Secretary’s room. They nodded familiarly to the 
blond young man (who answered their salutations 
with smiles and profound bows) and went out. 

Lavinia wondered who these gentlemen were. The 
young man, anxious that Lavvy, though insignificant, 
might know that he was on excellent terms with the 
great, seemed to guess her thoughts, for he said, — 

“ These gentlemen are the greatest men of the age. 
All historical, every one of them.” 

“ Ah ?” said Lavvy. 

“ The Secretary says the lady may come in,” said 
an usher ; and Lavvy, more dead than alive, followed 
him into the presence of the dreaded power. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


H 7 


What passed between the Secretary and Lavvy no 
one shall ever know, for neither of them ever told it. 
All that is known of that episode is what the driver 
was able to tell ; and that was not much, for he only 
saw Lavvy come Qut crying convulsively, and that 
is a common occurrence with the sex; and he heard 
her' talking to herself, and that is a common oc- 
currence with old maids, and Lavvy was past thirty- 
two ! 

The driver said he waited for some time before 
Miss Lavvy was able to say, between her sobs, 
“ Drive to the Cap-cap-pi-pi-to-1 !” 

And to the Capitol he drove. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

AT THE CAPITOL. MR. CACKLE AT HOME. 

With a very heavy heart Lavvy ascended the 
broad marble steps leading to the rotunda. She felt 
more sick at heart than any of the patients at her 
hospital, and the wounds in her spirit were deeper and 
bled more profusely than any of those she had band- 
aged so tenderly. But there was no hand to assuage 
her suffering. She felt very faint and lonely. 

But if the flesh was weak, the spirit was yet un- 
daunted, for Lavvy was doing this for love’s sake, 
for her dear brother Isaac ; and, until the last resource 


148 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

had been tried in vain, she would not relinquish her 
efforts. She never in her life had spoken to a Sen- 
ator or a member of Congress, except the Cackles 
and these two were so different from what they 
used to be at home that she did not know what the 
others might be like, if all had changed the same. 
But she was determined to see the New England 
Senators and members of the lower House, changed 
or not. 

As she was so intimidated by her experience at the 
War Office, she did not dare to face a Senator. She 
would commence at the House. Yes, her sister had 
suggested her seeing Mr. Ned White, who had been 
a workman at the Sprig farm many years ago, and had 
been kindly treated by old Mr. Sprig. Of course Ned 
White would remember that, and be kind to Isaac, 
now that he was in power ; of course he would, and 
help Isaac out of prison. Dear Isaac ! Lavvy forgot 
how Isaac had shocked them with his fondness for 
foreigners and the theatre. She only thought of his 
being now in prison, — in want, perhaps, sick, starving, 
without money or friends. “ Why was he not ex- 
changed ? Can it be possible that he has been for- 
gotten? I can’t believe it,” said Lavvy, talking to her- 
self. “ It can’t be ! Our government wouldn’t forget 
him. It seems so, but it can’t be so.” And her 
temples throbbed with these thoughts as they careered 
through her little head. 

In this frame of mind she entered the rotunda. 
She cast a searching glance all around to see If any 
acquaintance was there. Yes, she saw a friend, — none 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


149 


other than old Mr. Cackle, now the happy father of 
four distinguished men. 

Old Mr. Cackle was a very gi;eat man at the 
rotunda. He felt at home there, as if it had been 
erected for him especially, dome and all ; its propor- 
tions suited his own magnificence and importance. 
Nay, there were moments when, thinking of the 
greatness of his four sons, Mr. Cackle felt equal to 
clapping that dome on his head and wearing it for 
a smoking-cap. The addition of the goddess of lib 
erty as a top-knot, or hanging by the heels as a tassel 
would have been accepted kindly by the grandissimo 
Cackle, feeling that as a patriotic American he ought 
to do so. He was now, moreover, a good judge of 
paintings. Lavinia found him before the painting 
representing “the embarking of the Pilgrims,” dis- 
coursing upon the merits of it to a large number 
of admirers, who listened to his words in silent 
respect. 

After awhile Lavinia made her way up to him, and 
was able to speak to him and ask, wouldn’t he go 
with her to the House to see Mr. White? 

“ Bless my soul and body, my child !” said Mr. 
Cackle, giving his arm to Lavvy, for he now had 
learned manners, and could be as polite as you 
please ; “ of course you shall see Mr. White ! I’ll 
fetch him to you, of course /” and Mr. Cackle strutted 
on as if he was “ the boss” there, of course . Was 
not he the father of his sons ? Was not Beau a 
leader, and had not Julius just been made major- 
general for his Balaklava charge ? 

13* 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


\ 


150 


As they were walking towards the House of Re- 
presentatives, Mr. Cackle inquired, — 

“ But why do you wish to see Mr. White ? If you 
want anything, why don’t you ask my sons ? I am 
sure White can’t have the influence which they com- 
mand.” 

“ I have seen your - sons (though not lately, 
for I noticed they wished to avoid me), but to no 
purpose. They only gave me evasive answers and 
very ambiguous promises. In the mean time my 
poor brother remains in prison, forgotten by his 
friends.” 

“ Humph ! ahem ! It is about — about poor Isaac, is 
it ? Ah, really ! Well, we’ll see Mr. White, to be sure. 
About Isaac! I had forgotten.” And Mr. Cackle 
looked around him as if searching how to escape. 

“ Of course it is about Isaac. And though I can’t 
expect to influence your sons, you may, and then 
they could perhaps help their old friend out of a 
horrid prison. I do wish you would speak to Beau 
again about dear Isaac. Will you do it, my dear Mr. 
Cackle ?” 

“Yes, yes, of course /” answered Mr. Cackle, again 
looking around searchingly. 

“ For whom are you looking?” asked Lavvy. 

“ Mr. White, to be sure. Yes, I will speak to my 
sons about Isaac. But mind. Be careful. I tell you 
this as a friend. Isaac behaved outrageously towards 
a very influential gentleman, and that can’t bring 
him any good. The doctor, too, has been most im- 
prudent in his expressions. What if his party has 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


T5I 

lost the game ? They had to expect it, and they 
shouldn’t grumble.” 

“ You used to be of the same party,” said Lavvy. 
Mr. Cackle gave a start, and looked around more 
uneasily than ever. “ And as for the dear doctor, 
what has he done or said? I can take my solemn 
oath on his loyalty, whatever they may think at the 
War Office.” 

“ What — what — what did you say? Did you hear 
any report of his disloyalty at the War Office?” asked 
Mr. Cackle, with increasing terrors. 

“ Yes; but it isn’t the truth. Some one has been 
slandering him.” 

Mr. Cackle now was so overpowered by fear that, 
entirely forgetting his lately-acquired gallantry, he 
dropped his arm, and then shook off that of Lavvy 
resting on it and retreated a few steps, as if in invol- 
untary dread of contagion. He thought of his son 
Beau’s maxim of flying from unlucky people as if 
they were lepers, and the Norvals were not exactly 
in luck then. Somewhat ashamed of his cowardice, 
however, he said to the astonished Lavvy, who 
regarded him with wondering eyes, — 

“ Here we are at the House. I shall take you to 
the Speaker’s room, where I have the free antray 
(entree). I will go and fetch Mr. White to you. I 
suppose he will do what he can for you, considering 
that he is under great obligations to your family. 
The doctor, I believe, advanced the money to pay 
for his tuition for three years. White must not forget 
that. I’ll -remind him of it.” 


1^2 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

“ Do nothing of the kind, I beg of you. If I 
thought you would do such a thing, I would not let 
you send for him. Stay; I will send my card myself.” 

“ Well, well, don’t make such a rumpus. I’ll say 
nothing to him, but only send your card.” And, 
muttering to himself, “Women are so foolish! They 
never know how to make a good use of their capital, 
either in money or influence. Bah ! and they want 
to vote ! Ridiculous !” the old man went off to order 
White to come out. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

“MUST ISAAC BE LEFT TO STARVE?” 

Mr. White came immediately on receiving Lavvy’s 
card. When she saw him coming she pulled her veil 
well over her face ; for she knew only too well that 
her prominent nose — always of a roseate hue, like a 
high mountain reflecting the glow of a summer sun- 
set — became almost purple when she cried. Poor 
Lavvy’s nose had given her a deal of trouble. 

Mr. White saluted her very kindly, saying he was 
glad to see one of her family again. “Your family, 
Miss Sprig, was kinder to me than my own,” said he. 

Lavvy said she was glad he had not forgotten his 
old friends, as other members of Congress of her 
acquaintance had done. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


153 

Mr. White laughed, understanding Lavvy’s allusion, 
and said, most frankly, — 

“ Yes, I know they have, and I told Beau so yester- 
day very plainly. But I am not that sort of man, Miss 
Lavvy. All Congress isn’t composed of Cackles . I 
shall never forget how kind your father and brothers 
were to me, a poor boy, so friendless. I shall never 
forget, either, that to the doctor I owe my education, 
and that he generously insisted on my going to 
school at his expense. He saw me studying my 
lessons after working-hours, and he said to me, ‘ Do 
you like to stu(Jy, Ned ?’ I told him I did, and he 
took my book to look at it, and said, ‘ Who teaches 
you ?’ I told him I taught myself. ‘ I tell you what 
I’ll do,’ said he. ‘ I’ll let you have the funds to go 
to college ; and when you come out, you’ll pay me/ 
My heart gave a leap with pleasure, for I had always 
longed to go to college. But I told him I might 
die or get sick, and not be able to pay him back his 
money. ‘Pooh, pooh, man!’ said he; ‘if you lose 
your health or your life, you lose more than I ! You 
are an honest lad; and though I’m not a church-going 
man, I think it is the duty of honest men to help 
honest men. Rogues always help each other; honest 
people should not let rogues be their superiors in 
anything but roguery, certainly not in loyalty to 
one’s own order.’ And he talked to me so kindly, 
and urged me so warmly to accept his offer, that I 
did; and I know I studied with greater assiduity, 
because I was sure it would please him if I graduated 
high. So, Miss Lavinia, to your family I always shall 

G* 


154 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


feel that I owe everything. But I am talking about 
myself, and I have not asked what I can do to serve 
you. I’ll do anything I -can for you, with the greatest 
pleasure.” 

Lavinia’s courage gradually returned. She began 
to think with Ned White that all Congressmen were 
not Cackles, and, in her religiously-inclined mind, 
she thanked God that they were not. 

She related to Mr. White the story of Isaac’s cap- 
tivity, and the seeming impossibility of exchanging 
him. Mr. White listened very attentively. When 
Lavvy had ended her narrative, he fc said, — 

“ I did not know that Isaac was still in prison. 
How strange that none of the Cackles ever mentioned 
it to me ! I must study what to do. In the mean time, 
suppose we go over to the Senate and ask Senator 
F. to give you a letter for the Secretary of .” 

“No, no,” said Lavinia, interrupting him; “I don’t 
want to go to any department. I am afraid of 
Secretaries.” 

“ But why should you be ? They are no better 
than any one else.” 

“ I know that, but still I would rather not go.” 

“ Not with a letter from the Senator ?” 

Lavinia reflected, and then slowly replied, — 

“Well, perhaps a letter from a Senator might be a 
sort of protection. Who is that gentleman looking 
in?” Mr. White looked up, and a gentleman at the 
door made a sign that he wished to speak to him. 
He went, and they conversed at the door for awhile. 
Then both came in, and Mr. White said, — 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


155 


“ Mr. Blower, Miss Sprig,” and Lavvy and the 
newly-arrived gentleman bowed. Mr. White added, — 

“ Mr. Blower says that he knows Mr. Le Grand 

Gunn, who is now Second Assistant Secretary of , 

and who had something to do with the exchange of 
prisoners. Mr. Gunn is now here at the Capitol, and 
if you wish, we can go and see him, or Mr. Blower 
will go to see what information Mr. Gunn can give 
us, whilst you and I go to the Senate to see Sen- 
ator F.” 

Lavinia said she liked this last proposition very 
well, as Mr. Blower could obtain from Mr. Gunn the 
information required better than she could. They 
agreed then that Mr. Blower, after his interview with 
Mr. Gunn, should go to the Senate reception-room 
to report what he had learned. Lavinia and Mr. 
White went to the other wing of the Capitol. 

Senator F. was in the chair, presiding, when Lavvy’s 
card was handed to him by a page, and he immedi- 
ately asked another Senator to take his place, whilst 
he went to see Miss Sprig. 

This was salve to Lavvy’s wounded spirit. Indeed, 
it was more, — it was a delicious draught of nectar to 
her fainting, famished soul, so unused to kindness, yet 
so sensible to it. 

The Senator was very kind to her, and sat down at 
once to write the letter to the Secretary of , re- 

questing him to use his influence with the Secretary 
of War and the President in behalf of Isaac. When he 
had finished the letter, the Senator said to Lavvy, — 

“ I shall see the President myself, but not for three 


! -6 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

days ; for I shall be away from Washington from this 
evening until the evening of day after to-morrow. If 
it was not for this, I would go with you to see the 
President. However, I think the Secretary will do 
as well as I would. Go early to-morrow morning. 
Go to his private residence, before he goes to his 
office and is surrounded by a crowd.” 

Lavinia thanked the Senator warmly and sincerely, 
promising to obey his instructions. The venerable 
gentleman then kindly bade her good-morning, ask- 
ing her to report to him what success she had, and 
returned to his chair. 

In a few minutes Mr. Blower returned. 

“White, they are looking for you at the House. 
Beau Cackle is foaming at the mouth because he 
says you promised to vote for his bill, and you ain’t 
there,” Mr. Blower said. 

“ Beau Cackle doesn’t foam so easily,” replied Mr. 
White. “ But I’ll go, Miss Sprig, if you will excuse 
me for a quarter of an hour. Then I’ll come back, to 
be at your service for the rest of the afternoon.” 

“ For the rest of your life, — I thought you were 
going to say,” observed Mr. Blower, laughing, and 
making the other two blush. “ I’ll take care of Miss 
Sprig, and will tell her what Gunn said to me about 
the exchanging of prisoners.” 

When Mr. White had left them, Mr. Blower drew 
his chair nearer to Levy’s, and began his report 
thus : 

“ After my talk with Gunn, my opinion is that you 
had better make no effort to have your brother ex- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


15 7 


changed, but leave that matter entirely in the hands 
of the government. The government knows better 
when to exchange, and when not to ; and there are 
times when it is best not to. I cannot tell you more 
at present, for, as yet, this policy I have just hinted 
at is not fully put into practice ; but it will be, for the 
master mind which originated it is the power of the 
day. Do you understand?” 

Lavinia looked at him in silent amazement. Mr. 
Blower continued, condescendingly : 

“ I see you don’t grasp the idea. Of course, ladies 
can’t well grasp great ideas, or understand the reasons 
that impel men in power to act at times in a manner 
apparently contrary to humanity, to mercy, to justice. 
But in reality it isn’t so. Now, let me put it clearly 
before you. If by not exchanging all our prisoners 
we manage to distress the rebels, who soon will be at 
the point of starvation, don’t you think, now, don’t you 
think we do right in not exchanging? For, you see, 
the more mouths they have to feed, the sooner they 
will consume what they have to eat, and then we will 
conquer them by famine as well as by the sword. 
You, the ladies, will say this policy is inhuman; but 
I say it is not, if it has the effect of ending the war 
sooner. Moreover, why should killing people with 
cannons be considered more expedient and less cruel 
than killing them with starvation and sickness ? In 
this last-named manner we have a double advantage; 
for, whilst leaving our people to eat up the provisions 
of the enemy, we keep away from their ranks those 
who, as prisoners in the North, have become able- 

14 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


158 

bodied men, ten times better able to fight than the 
day we captured them half starved. So you see how, 
like a patriotic girl as you are, you should resign 
yourself to the misfortune that made your brother 
one of the noble victims selected by Providence to 
be the means of subjugating the wicked traitors, and 
thus putting down a rebellion never equaled for its 
magnitude and want of cause. Reflect on this, and 
you will better appreciate the wisdom which originates 
this economic policy.” 

“ I can understand that perhaps a general, when 
about to fight a great battle, might stop, temporarily, 
the exchange of prisoners, so as to keep them from 
the enemy’s ranks; but the policy of making it a 
rule, as you suggest, to leave our brave soldiers there 
because they help to consume the resources of the 
South, — that I can’t understand.” 

“ You, of course, reason as a lady. Don’t you see 
that if it is well to stop the exchange once, it may be 
done as often or as long as it is expedient ?” 

Lavvy shook her head incredulously. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


159 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

NO, ISAAC SHALL NOT BE LEFT TO STARVE. 

What a debasing thing is war, when it suggests 
to man such horrible, ghastly ideas, and his fellow- 
man applauds him for them, and instead of calling 
him an inhuman monster, calls him a “ great man ” / 
So reasoned Lavvy, like a true woman, losing sight 
entirely of the main point of Mr. Blower’s argument. 

Her heart sank again, lower than when she had left 
the War Department. She could not, to save her 
life, see the magnanimity of the policy thus beauti- 
fully developed before her eyes. She had seen too 
many wounded and sick men not to be of opinion 
that a quick death on the battle-field was by far less 
cruel. So, forgetting that her nose became purple 
when she cried, she gave way to a flood of tears. 

“And must my poor brother, then, starve?” said 
she, with no other clear thought in her distracted 
mind. The Hon. Mr. Blower thought he must try 
to soothe her feelings in a gallant manner, so he re- 
spectfully kissed her hand, saying, in bland tones, — 

“ You are a good girl, and an honor to your coun- 
try. If you understood this policy, I am sure you 
would approve it. But it is not to be expected that 
ladies would exactly appreciate those ideas, they bein^ 
beyond their sphere of thought.” 

Lavvy humbly admitted that they were. She was 


: 6o WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


very sorry for it, but she really could not see the 
humanity and wisdom of the course Mr. Blower 
pointed out She never could see how it was that 
after men had been trying for so many years to 
govern the world, they had not yet been wise enough 
to settle their difficulties without killing and muti- 
lating each other. Still, as this was the fact, and she 
could not help it, she tried all she could to make 
the evil less inhuman by taking care of the wounds 
which men, in their foolishness, inflicted on each 
other ; and like a good American girl, she ended by 
saying, innocently, — 

“And do the people of the United States, — I mean 
the loyal people , — do they approve of their brothers 
being left to starve in the South ?” And her large, 
. ild blue eyes looked at Mr. Blower straight in the 
facej^and her red nose, shining with a pink light, 
pointed direct at him, as if daring him to prevaricate. 

“ Ahem ! Ours is a popular — ahem ! — government, 
my dear lady, but our leading men do not lay before 
the people all new great measures, some of which the 
unthinking multitude could not grasp at once ; not 
until time and trial have shown their wisdom. If such 
practice had not been adopted from the time of Wash- 
ington, who would be. our leaders ? This measure, 
however, will not be altogether unknown, and we 
hope it will be sanctioned by the nation.” 

“ Then all I have to say is, that I did not know the 
American people, and that they don’t care for their 
T>fothers,” said Lavvy, relapsing into another parox- 
ysm of sobs. 


IVI/O WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? I 6 I 


“They do indeed, but they are ready to make 
sacrifices to vindicate the principles upon which is 
founded the best government on earth?' 

“ Let them go there themselves, then. They would 
not be so heroic if they were starving in a horrid 
prison on the othdr side,” sobbed Lavvy. 

“ Possibly not ; for the human heart is weak.” 

“ I had the strength to kill my — my — my dar — 
dar — darling can — can — canary-birds, but I can’t 
let my own brother starve,” sobbed Lavvy, convul- 
sively. 

Mr. Blower began to wish that Mr. White would 
return ; and, fortunately, at that moment Mr. White 
was seen coming towards them. 

- He was surprised to find Lavvy in tears, whom he 
had left so cheerful. He frowned, and looked darkly 
at Mr. Blower for information. Mr. Blower felt un- 
easy, and rose to take his departure. 

“ I can go with Miss Sprig, if she desires it, to see 
the President about trying to exchange her brother ; 
or I can get Gunn to see the Secretary of War 
to ” 

“ No, no, no !” interrupted Lavvy, hurriedly. “ I 
thank you. If they intend to do what you say, 
I suppose I must lose all ho — ho — hope,” sobbed 
Lavvy, covering her face. 

“ What under the stars have you been telling 
her?” asked Mr. White, giving Mr. Blower another 
black look. m 

Lavvy, always anxious to avoid being the cause 
of unpleasant feeling, hastened to say, — 

14* 


j6 2 WHO would have thought it? 

“ Mr. Blower has been most kind, indeed he has, 
and I am very grateful to him. I thank you, Mr. 
Blower, believe me ; though what you said is natu- 
rally very terrible to me, I do thank you. And now, 
Mr. White, I’ll go home. I don’t see that anything 
can be done for my brother.” 

“Are we not to deliver to Mr. the Senator’s 

letter?” asked Mr. White. 

“ No. The Senator says to take it in the morning. 
In a day or two, when I feel less nervous, I’ll try to 
take the letter myself. Now all I can do is to go 
home and lie down, after I take a look at my poor 
sick people.” 

When Lavinia arose, Mr. Blower, offering her his 
services “ in any way, shape, or manner,” took his 
leave, glad to get away from White’s look. 

“ What did he say to you ? It must have been 
very painful, to distress you so much. I am sorry I 
brought him to you,” said Mr. White. 

“ Don’t feel so. It is well to know the worst.” And 
Lavvy, taking Mr. White’s arm to go down-stairs, 
related to him what Mr. Blower had said to her. 

“ Don’t you believe a word of it,” said Mr. White. 
“ Ther$ are not two men in Congress who would vote 
for any such barbarous policy. The Americans are 
not Hindoos. We can make up our minds to fearful 
sacrifices ; but when it comes to killing our brave 
boys with slow torture, then the American heart and 
mind revolt. If any one says that such a thing 
*would meet the approval of Congress, all I have to 
say is, that he slanders Congress. Good God ! Do 


WHO WOULL HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


1 63 

people reflect on what they say, when they speak of 
such a soul-sickening holocaust? No, Miss Lavvy, 
don’t believe in such horrors. I should lose faith 
in our cause if I did.” 

Mr. White succeeded in giving some consolation 
to the docile heart of Lavvy, and when he had 
helped her to her carriage, she — although her eyes 
and nose were still objectionably red — smiled on 
him, as she warmly thanked him for his kindness. 
Then she directed the driver to stop at the post-office 
to inquire for letters, and afterwards drive home, as 
it was too late to go again to the hospital. 

There were two letters for Lavvy, but, as they were 
in Emma Hackwell’s handwriting, she put them in 
her pocket to read them when she felt better. Now 
her head ached and her heart felt bruised and sore. 
She longed for rest. From the carriage she went 
straight up-stairs to her bedroom to go to bed. 

Lavinia’s prayers were always extemporaneous 
and multifarious, shaped by passing incidents, — for 
Lavvy had the faith in prayer of a strict Roman 
Catholic. From this night, however, Lavvy’s orisons 
became less varied. Her nightly prayer, with but 
slight differences, ran in these words : 

“ O Lord, be merciful unto the American people ! 
Pour down thy blessings upon the House of Repre- 
sentatives and the Senate.” (In Lavvy’s prayers the 
order was reversed, and the House took precedence 
of the Senate.) “Bless them because they were 
kind to me , and because they will not let our people 
starve in awful prisons. Bless them, and # keep them 


j6 4 WHO would have thought it? 

always in thy path and in thy light, that they may 
govern this thy people righteously. Bless the Presi- 
dent, and enlighten him, that he may make a proper 
selection of men for his Cabinet , so that he may not 
be exposed to wicked influences. 

“ Forgive the Cabinet , O Lord, and show them the 
ways of thy mercy, that their hearts may not be 
so pitiless to the sorrowful and afflicted. Have 
mercy on all the American people , and most particu- 
larly do I beseech Thee for ” Here Lavvy 

mentioned the names of the members of her family, 
and ended her prayer. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

MR. HACKWELL AND THE MADAM CONSOLE EACH OTHER. 

The great novelist Thackeray accuses his country- 
men of “ a most groveling worship of success!' The 
free-born American resembles his proud progenitors 
in this so well, that he is ready to do homage on his 
bended knees. The Eastern worshiper saying to his 
idol, “ Crush me if thou wilt, to worship thee is my 
delight, my pride,” is not more subservient than the 
“ equal of kings,” the free-born American, before the 
successful man , before the millionaire, before the rail- 
road king, — the great monopolists. During the war,- 
the prominent politicians and fortunate generals took 
precedence for a short time of the moneyed men. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


165 

Thus it came to pass that the Cackles awoke one 
morning to find themselves famous. All New Eng- 
land was at their feet, proud to be there. All those 
who had slighted and ridiculed them the most, were 
the loudest in their praises. 

But if their old favorite Isaac had now appeared 
in those regions, he, the lame chicken of the hen- 
yard, would have been pecked to death by all the 
vicious fowls. 

As for Dr. Norval, it was well he had taken the 
wise precaution of exiling himself, for his very name 
was little less than execrated. They even believed 
that he had no more money ; that he had spent all 
except what was settled on Mrs. Norvab And as no 
one but Mr. William Sinclair knew anything about 
the doctor’s money matters, all had the right to form 
whatever theories they pleased on the subject. 

The doctor’s friends, however, bestowed upon Mrs. 
Norval enough respect and consideration to make up 
for their severity to her husband. 

“ She was a noble paragon.” 

So the popular voice said, and “ the people” — Mr. 
Beecher says — “ can’t make a mistake.” 

Tidings of a fearful nature received about this time 
— the winter of 1862 — caused Mrs. Norval to become 
more and more the object of respectful sympathy and 
increased popularity. 

Mr. Sinclair had just written (inclosing newspaper 
accounts) the sad report of the doctor’s death. He 
had been killed — the newspapers said — by the blacks 
in Abyssinia, with all his party, in December, 1861, 


!66 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

nearly a year before the sad intelligence was re- 
ceived. 

“ It was a dispensation of Providence that the 
doctor should be destroyed by that race for whose 
oppressors he had manifested such culpable sym- 
pathy,” said Mrs. Norval’s friends. 

The ex-reverend Mr. Hackwell — now reverend no 
longer, as he had exchanged that title for that of 

“ captain” — was in L when Mrs. Norval received 

this terrible news. 

It seemed also like a providential disposition that 
Mr. Hackwell should be there at that time, and 
should be there as a mourner too. He had come 
“ to pay the last tribute to a beloved wife,” — to bury 
her. Mrs. Hackwell had died only about a week be- 
fore the death of the doctor was reported. 

Mrs. Norval sat at her favorite window, very 
thoughtful, — I cannot say that she was sad : sadness 
implies a measure of human weakness, and Mrs. 
Norval’s life-study had been to keep up a successful 
warfare on weakness and wickedness, both of which 
she abhorred. 

So now she sat thinking very serious thoughts about 
her husband and his persistent inclination to take the 
wrong path, until it had taken him to a sandy grave 
in Abyssinia. 

She had been thus silently moralizing for some 
time, when she saw her friend Mr. Hackwell coming. 

He wore his uniform, and it certainly made him look 
ten times handsomer than did the sleek black 'clothes 
of a Presbyterian parson. But still Mrs. Norval had 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


167 

loved to hear him preach ! Since he had left, she “did 
not enjoy going to church at all,” she had often said. 

“I was wondering if you would come back to 
be our pastor. I hope you may,” said Mrs. Norval, 
when the ex-parson had taken his seat near her in 
the twilight. 

“You are very kind,” he answered, in his blandest, 
softest tone. “But I hardly think I will, with my 
home all broken up.” 

“ You could make your home with us when Emma 
and Julian get married. As for little Johnny, you 
know Mrs. Hackwell left him under my care,” said 
Mrs. Norval, probably not weighing well her words. 

Long was their conversation; from one thing they 
glided on to another in smooth converse. 

“ Emma tells me you expect your daughters back 
next summer,” said he. 

“Yes; and do you know what has got into their 
heads? That we must go to New York to live. Did 
you ever hear anything so absurd ?” 

“ Well, now, I think it is very natural for two young 
girls with plenty of money to go where they can enjoy 
it. Moreover, in New York they can make a more 
suitable marriage. Here there is no one whom either 
you or I would recommend.” 

“That is true; but as for their being rich, that is 
not so certain. You know that James never could 
or did economize ; we always spent all our income 
from the farm. I don’t know what his means were 
exactly : I only know that he left some money with 
Mr. Sinclair.” 


x68 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT ? 


“ Did not he make a will before leaving ?” 

“ Oh, yes, he did that.” / 

“ Well, then, by reading his will you can ascertain 
what he left you.” 

“When Julian comes, I’ll see if he wishes to open 
the will.” 

“ But why do you wish to wait for Julian ?” 

“ Because on the envelope of the will it says, * My 
wife will open this in the presence, of Lola and Julian 
and Mr. Sinclair,’ and of course I can’t open it now. 
I asked Julian what I should do, and I suppose I shall 
get his answer very soon.” 

Julian’s answer did come very soon, and Mrs. 
Norval and Captain Hackwell sat again at the bay- 
window in the twilight, discussing domestic affairs. 

They were rather perplexed, those two good people 
at the window, for Julian refused to believe in the 
report of his father’s death, and said that the will 
must not be opened until Lola was twenty-one, or 
her relations claimed her, or she was to be married. 
Otherwise the will should yet remain closed. 

“ It strikes me that Lola must be the principal and 
absorbing subject of that will. Suppose one of your 
daughters was to be married, and you wanted to give 
her a dowry, — her portion at her marriage? You 
couldn’t do it ; no, because Lola is not twenty-one. 
It is absurd,” said Captain Hackwell. 

Mrs. Norval listened with eager attention. Then, 
with as much dislike as her regular and impassible 
features could express, she ssrid, — 

“ I know that Lola was everything, to him.” 


WHO WOULD DAVE THOUGHT IT? i6g 

« 

“ The more reason, then, for you to know the con- 
tents of that will. But do not let me influence you, 
if you feel conscientious scruples about opening it.” 

They said no more that evening about the will ; 
but next day they did, and the day after, until it was 
more than human nature could do to keep from open- 
ing it. Captain Hackwell’s leave of absence would 
soon terminate. He would go in two or three days. 
They again sat at the bay-window, and agreed to 
open the will that night. 

They did. Late, very late in the night, they sat 
by the library centre-table, poring over the forbidden 
document with more zest and excitement, perhaps, 
because it was forbidden , because they were breaking 
a precept. At least sinners would, — that is what I 
mean; but not such a paragon of virtue as Mrs. Nor- 
val, or so edifying a gentleman as his ex-reverence. 

His face was pale as he read ; hers was flushed ; the 
hands of both trembled, and they spoke in whispers. 

The sensation was new to Mrs. Norval, and she 
did not dislike it. 

“ Did you think she had so much money ?” asked 
he, in a whisper, though they were alone. 

“ No ; I did not,” she answered, also in a whisper. 
“I am surprised.” 

“ She must have six or seven millions now. It is 
an enormous sum.” 

Mrs. Norval was silent. He continued: 

“ But you can draw yearly over a hundred thou- 
sand dollars, if you wish ; and if I were you I would. 

* A bird in the hand,’ you know ; and if it be left with 
i5 


H 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT / 


170 

Mr. Sinclair he can do what he likes with it. Take my 
advice, and draw it.” 

“But what will Mr. Sinclair say? and Julian? 
What shall I do with the money ?” 

“Your daughters want to go to New York, you 
say? Well, take them to New York. Write to- 
morrow to Mr. Sinclair that, as your daughters are 
coming and wish to reside in New York, you want 
him to buy you a house there, with the money you 
did not draw last year.” 

“You are a dear, good friend, indeed,” said Mrs. 
Norval, with as much enthusiasm as it was possible 
for her to demonstrate, and certainly with more 
warmth than the ci-devant parson had ever before 
seen in her. 

He took her hand in his and kissed it, saying, — 
fixing his really beautiful eyes on hers, — 

“And has it taken you all this time to find out my 
devotion ?” 

Mrs. Norval certainly could most conscientiously 
have taken her oath that never in her life had she 
experienced a thrill like that which now went from 
Hackwell’s hand to hers and pervaded her whole 
frame. She trembled like a young maiden, she 
blushed, she stammered. 

When Hackwell saw that for the first step he had 
done enough, with a sigh he pressed her hand and 
mournfully turned his eyes upon the manuscript 
again. He was perfectly sure he could make the 
stately madam tremble like a girl any time he 
pleased. Enough for the present. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


171 

Two days after, the captain came to bid Mrs. 
Norval good-by. She was again at the window 
behind the curtains, and at twilight. 

“ I will soon let you know what is Mr. Sinclair’s 
answer, and when Emma and I will leave for New 
York. I am sorry you are to go so soon,” said she. 

“ Are you ?” said he, approaching her. She began 
to tremble ; she did not know why. Without saying 
a word, he put his arms around her, and gave her a 
long, very long, kiss. She was so surprised at first 
that she could not speak, and then she felt so weak 
in his arms, so powerless to resist, that she did not 
resist. The stately lady, paragon of propriety, was 
as morally weak as — as — what? 

It is not easy to find a fit simile for a matron who, 
from a chaste Lucretia, suddenly turns into a Clytem- 
nestra. 

The captain took the night train. As he sat by 
the car-window, looking at the gloom, he at times 
smiled as if amused. The flying bushes, in their 
grotesque antics, suggested to him the thought of 
seeing Mrs. Norval dance a hornpipe. 


172 


WHO WOULD HAVE • THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER XXIX. 
lawy’s experience as hospital nurse. 

The Misses Norval had arrived. The event was 
duly chronicled by the press. Their magnificent house 
on Fifth Avenue was all ready for them, and Mrs. Nor- 
val herself, accompanied by Emma Hackwell and 
little Johnny, went to the steamer to meet them. 

Nothing could be more sumptuous than the Norval 
house. Its splendor surpassed even Ruth’s ambitious 
desires. It delighted Mattie and frightened Mrs. 
Norval. She could not get used to seeing herself re- 
flected from magnificent mirrors everywhere ; it made 
her feel uncomfortable. She wasn’t at all sure that 
she had done right. She certainly had not intended 
to ask for this magnificent abode, when she wrote to 
Mr. Sinclair to buy her a house ; but when Mr. Sin- 
clair sent the description of several, she had chosen 
the one which Mr. Hackwell advised. As she had 
written to him, asking him to choose for her, she felt 
obliged, of course, to select that one. Then Mr. 
Hackwell had so kindly just run up to New York 
from Washington, for a day, and had given the 
orders to the upholsterers for the furnishing of it. 
She could not countermand his orders when they 
were partially executed. 

But the girls were so pleased with the house, Ruth 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


173 


particularly, that Mrs. Norval began to think that per- 
haps she had done well. Perhaps all the houses in 
New York — of the fashionable people — were like this. 
She did not know, as she never had been inside of 
one of them, except that of Mrs. Sinclair. But her 
daughters had been in palaces. The Empress of 
France had spoken to them, and complimented them 
on the sweet way in which they spoke French. They 
knew all about genteel society. 

Julian had not yet seen their new house, and Mrs. 
Norval was rather afraid he would not exactly ap- 
prove. She was sure he would thirfk it would cost a 
mint of money to keep up such an establishment. But 
Mr. Hackwell had figured the expenses for her, and 
they did not reach forty thousand dollars, — keeping 
four carriages and eight horses, — and said that she 
could draw every year, if she liked, one hundred and 
sixty thousand dollars and not exceed the doctor’s 
allowance. 

But how could she explain this to Julian without 
saying she had read the will ? 

She would write to Mr. Hackwell asking his ad- 
vice, and he would certainly suggest something. 

There was no danger, however, that Julian would 
be asking any disagreeable questions for some time 
to come. About the time when Mrs. Norval was 
moving into her new house, he was getting ready for 
the battle of Antietam. Then he was wounded there 
and went to Washington, to his Aunt Lavvy’s hos- 
pital. His wound had not been dangerous, but pain- 
ful enough to keep him an invalid for a month. Then 

15* 


174 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


he was in a great hurry to rush back to his command, 
which was now a brigade, and he did not have the 
time to go to New York. He went only as far as 
the convent , because Lola had written that she was 
sick with anxiety, and she felt double alarm, because 
Jule too seemed very sad, and hadn’t sung at all for 
nearly two weeks. After his visit Jule sang again, 
and the roses came back to his mistress’s cheeks. 

“ The girls” had lovely wardrobes, which would be 
a heavy loss if they went in mourning, as all their 
costly dresses would be out of fashion before they 
went out of mourning. Mrs. Norval said that Julian 
did not believe in the report of his father’s death, and 
had written to her and to Lola not to put on mourning. 
“ The girls ,” of course, did not believe it either. But 
Mattie, for all that, could not help crying, and would 
shut herself in her room at times, with papa’s photo- 
graph only, and have a good cry to herself. Ruth 
knew better than to do such foolish things. Crying 
spoils the eyes ; it makes the lids heavy and clouds the 
brightness, “ and what is the use of crying ? If papa 
has been killed (which I don't believe), crying won’t 
bring him to life ; and if he hasn’t been killed, why 
should we cry ?” said Miss Ruth. Mattie said, “ It 
is so,” but still would cry. And so would Lola, 
although she had a sort of blind faith that she would 
again see her beloved benefactor. “ I suppose my 
heart means that I shall see him in heaven,” Lola 
would say, and forthwith she would put on her black 
veil and rush to the chapel to pray to the Virgin 
Mary for “ that good, good man.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


175 


And Lavvy,the tender-hearted maiden, how this ter- 
rible news affected her! If she had not been so fright- 
ened by Mr. Blower, she would have read Emma’s 
letters as soon as she got them ; but, not imagining 
their contents were so fearful, she laid them on the 
bureau, and threw herself on the bed. Presently, how- 
ever, a servant brought her a cup of tea, and she drank 
it and ate some very nice toast and a bit of cold 
chicken. Lavvy’s courage revived, and she began to 
think that Mr. Blower, not being a member of Con- 
gress, could not be as good authority as Mr. White, 
who was. And though Mr. White, had admitted — 
as Lavvy herself did — that the exchange might for a 
short time be suspended, still, it could not be — as Mr. 
Blower said — with a view to increase the famine in 
the South. Yes, Mr. White ought to know better 
than Mr. Blower, who was only, said Mr. White, a 
“ lobby man,” — whatever that might be, — and who, 
after all, repeated what he had heard Mr. Gunn say, 
and he might have made a mistake. With these 
consolatory reflections to help the tea and toast and 
cold chicken, Lavvy’s nerves became more composed. 
She then began to think that she ought to have gone 
to her hospital to see her sick before going to bed. 
She looked at her watch, and it was seven o’clock. 
She rang and ordered a carriage immediately, and 
told the servant to say to Mrs. Cackle, or any of the 
Misses Cackle, wouldn’t one of them go with her to 
the hospital, just to take a look at some of her sick. 
She would not detain them five minutes. Then 
Lavvy flew to her bureau, and began to dress herself. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


1 76 

When she was dressed, — bonnet and all, — seeing 
Emma’s letter there yet unopened, she said, “I'll 
see what Emma says while the carriage comes. I 
hope there is no more sad news. That telegram of 
Mrs. Hackwell’s death shocked me awfully.” She 
then sat down to read the letter. 

Mrs. Cackle was coming, all ready to accompany 
her, and as she was going to knock, she heard Lavvy 
give a loud scream. The old lady opened the door, 
and found Lavvy fainting. 

The news of the doctor’s death coming when she 
had been all day in terror of Isaac’s starvation, was 
more than poor Lavvy could bear, for she loved her 
kind brother-in-law dearly. 

Of course Lavvy was too sick to go to the hospital 
that night, but next morning she made a great effort 
to rise and dress herself. She felt very anxious about 
her sick. Mrs. Cackle had not been in her ward, but 
had heard that one or two of the wounded were 
dying. Lavvy ate no breakfast, only drank a cup of 
coffee while waiting for the carriage. 

As soon as she went up-stairs on that wing of the 
hospital which was her ward, she knew that some- 
thing was wrong. The nurses looked frightened as 
soon as they saw her. 

“ What is the matter ?” she said, but none answered. 
She opened the door of the front room, and the first 
thing that met her eyes was one of her favorite 
patients lying in his bed dead. 

She sat by the bedside and felt the boy’s heart. It 
had ceased beating, but he was yet warm. She closed 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


1 77 


his eyes, still partly opened, and then, thinking of her 
poor brother Isaac and the doctor, burst into a flood 
of tears. The nurses stood by her in silent terror. 
Lavvy looked up ; she saw that they looked guilty, 
and a great deal more frightened than grieved. 

“ What is the meaning of this ? What killed this 
boy? He was almost well.” 

“I don’t know, ma’am,” answered assistant nurse 
No. i. “ He was well last evening, and he com- 
menced with convulsions about eleven o’clock, and 
had them all night, and died about an hour ago. The 
others are not dead yet, but two are very bad. The 
doctor has not come yet.” 

“When did the others commence with the con- 
vulsions ?” 

“About one o’clock two of them, and the other 
about three,” answered nurse No. 2. 

Lavvy was again collected, judicious, practical, as 
soon as she saw that a head was wanted there. 
Straightway she began to investigate the cause of 
these convulsions. 

“ Come here all of you,” said she to her staff of 
nurses, who, pale with fright, and not feeling alto- 
gether blameless, approached her. 

“ Answer truly, or I’ll report every one of you, — 
for that boy in another fortnight would have been 
with his musket on his shoulder,” — and she pointed 
to the dead soldier. “ He died because he ate some- 
thing that was poison to him, I am sure. Who has 
been here since I went away yesterday ?” 

E* 


178 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ Only Mrs. Cackle and the young ladies came to 
ask if you had returned,” said nurse No. I. 

“ And two ladies who brought some pickles and 
jellies, and some oranges,” added nurse No. 2. 

“And did the boy eat oranges or jelly?” 

“ No, ma’am, he did not.” 

“Who else came?” 

“ Nobody else, ma’am, but the two ladies’ maids 
who carried the oranges and jelly, and — and some 
bottles of — of — wine.” 

“ Good!” said Lavvy. “ First there were only the 
Cackles ; then the two ladies with jelly and oranges ; 
then two ladies’ maids ; and then some bottles which 
make you stammer. I think I’ll find more.” 

So saying, Lavinia began a thorough search, lift- 
ing pillows, looking behind beds and under the mat- 
tresses. The result was that she found an empty 
pickle-jar under the pillow of the man who commenced 
with convulsions about one o’clock ; some cheese and 
gingerbread under that of the man with the cramps; 
a box of sardines and peanut-candy under that of the 
other with convulsions; and as she turned to examine 
the bed of the dead boy, she noticed that nurse No. 
2 was trying to hide something under her apron. 
“What is that?” Lavvy demanded quickly. 

“ Nothing, ma’am, but a little bit of boolon sausage.” 

Hard was this trial to Lavvy, whose tender con- 
science' accused her of neglecting her duty. She 
should have come the evening before, no matter what 
the state of her feelings might have been, her con- 
science said; and Lavvy humbly promised never to 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


1 79 


leave her post again for so many hours. She became 
from that day more firmly convinced than ever that 
ladies with hearts and brains were absolutely neces- 
sary to her country’s cause. Not merely paid menials 
should attend the sick and wounded, but thoughtful 
women, who could judiciously order as well as obey 
in an emergency like this, which ended so tragically. 

Lavvy was no advocate of “ woman’s rights.” She 
did not understand the subject even, but she smiled 
sadly, thinking how little woman was appreciated, 
how unjustly underrated. She could obtain nothing 
from the government, — the Cackles, all ! “ To kill 

is better than to save,” she said, sadly, but not bit- 
terly, for Lavvy had a gentle heart. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

CAPTAIN HACKWELL BECOMES A HERO AND IS 
BREVETED. 

Again the roar of the cannon made the mountains 
tremble. The battle of Chancellorsville was being 
fought. 

Julian, pale yet with the loss of the blood he had 
left on the field of Antietam, sat on his horse at the 
head of his brigade, waiting for the order to advance. 
His forehead was pale, and his cheeks sunken, but 
his eyes shone with the light of suppressed enthusi- 
asm, for he was thoroughly devoted to the cause he 


j8o who would have thought it? 


so gallantly defended. He hated to have to shoot 
down his fellow-citizens, he admitted that; but if they 
insisted on breaking the Union, and would not come 
to their senses except through the baptism of blood, 
then Julian deemed his cause right, and was ready to 
defend it with his life. 

He was thus thinking, when he saw a horse, ap- 
parently riderless, approaching. On coming nearer 
him, Julian recognized the hat and shoulders and the 
back of Commissary Hackwell, of General Cackle’s 
staff. The ci-devant preacher, too long preaching 
peace to like the practices of war, was bending so 
close to his saddle — to afford as small a mark to 
sharpshooters as possible — that not until close to 
Julian could any one see his face. On arriving, he 
gave to Julian a slip of paper, evidently a leaf torn 
from a memorandum-book, saying, — 

“ This is from General .” 

Julian read the paper, and the word to advance 
went through the columns of his brigade. 

But, as it is not the purpose of these unpretending 
pages to describe battles, we will leave Julian ad- 
vancing to deal death and suffering on his fellow- 
men, and will follow Captain Hackwell, who was 
even less disposed to witness so closely any such 
inhuman havoc. 

The peaceably-disposed commissary, again taking 
the precaution to present as small a mark to sharp- 
shooters as he could, took his way back to head- 
quarters. The commissary and ex-preacher and ci- 
devant lawyer, was in no amiable mood now. He 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? x 8 1 

felt as if his back was breaking, but did not dare to 
sit up straight. He belabored himself mentally as 
roughly as he, to the delight of Mrs. Norval, used to 
handle his admiring congregation. And he deserved 
belaboring quite as much, for to his vanity alone he 
was indebted for being caught in the trap of deliver- 
ing that order to Julian. Because he wished to be 
seen riding a handsome horse (which a friend of his 
in the Quartermaster’s Department had bought cheap 
for him), and because he wished to go near enough 
to the battle-field to say that he had been there in 
the battle, he had approached headquarters just at 
the time when an aid, carrying the order to Julian, 
had his horse wounded, and, seeing Captain Hack- 
well so finely mounted, requested him to carry the 
order. Captain Hack would have refused if he had 
dared, but this was out of the question. Evidently 
both the aid and the horse were scarcely able to walk. 

“ Brutal, beastly way of settling difficulties !” solil- 
oquized Hack on his return, and with his back almost 
broken. “ I cannot but think that the devil rears 
soldiers as boys raise fighting-cocks, just for his sport. 
Curse the war and all the damned fools who got it up ! 
But no ; those who got it up take mighty good care 
to keep out of it, I notice. I should say, curse the 
damned fools who come to get shot for other people’s 
benefit. If I ever get away with a whole skin and 
unbroken back, I promise to Satan I sha’n’t afford 
him further sport.” 

Thus soliloquizing, the captain rode on as fast as 
his uncomfortable position permitted. He selected 
16 


x 82 WHO would have thought it? 


a road which he thought would take him more 
quickly away from the flying missiles. But soon his 
path became so rugged as to be at times almost im- 
passable. He was obliged to dismount and lead his 
horse by the bridle for a few yards, and remount. The 
third time he had been obliged to resort to this expe- 
dient, and within a short distance of headquarters, as 
he was going to mount again, his foot slipped and he 
fell on his knees. As he did so, one of the two 
revolvers he carried at his belt went off, wounding 
him in the right leg. 

The captain yelled with pain, losing his hold of 
the bridle, and the horse, seeing him down on the 
ground, trotted off pitilessly. 

The wounded captain tried to get nearer the road 
to call for assistance, and partially succeeded by 
crawling and limping painfully. Then he concealed 
himself in the bushes by the roadside and tried to 
staunch the blood. This he could not well do. He 
tied his wound with his pocket-handkerchief and 
cravat, but still it bled profusely, and he felt he was 
getting very faint. At last, with the loss of blood 
and the terror of being captured, the commissary 
swooned away. 

He must have remained in this state for several 
hours, as it was not until night that a party of men 
going by, in the humane work of collecting the 
wounded, saw him, and carried him to the camp 
hospital. 

This exploit, however, made the non-combatant 
captain a major, and a hero in the eyes of Mrs. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? j 83 

Norval and a grateful country, who had any amount 
of brevets in store for him. 

The captain was, at his earnest request, carried to 
Washington. On arriving there, he telegraphed to 
Mrs. Norval that he was sick and wounded, and 
couldn’t she and Emma come to see him? He would 
like to see his sister and his dearest friend. 

Two days before the arrival of this telegram, 
another one had come to the Norval mansion from 
the doctor in charge of Julian, saying that, “As Col- 
onel Norval was very dangerously wounded and might 
die, if his family wished to see him before dying 
they had better come soon;” adding, however, that his 
case was “by no means hopeless.” 

Mrs. Norval, of course, had started for Fortress 
Monroe, taking the night train, so as to arrive in 
Baltimore in the morning and take a morning boat, 
if there was any. 

Mattie wanted to go with her mother, but Mrs. 
Norval would not permit it, as she did not know that 
she could get any accommodation for her. She 
promised, however, to telegraph daily, and if Julian 
was worse, then to let his two sisters see him before 
dying. 

When Captain Hackwell’s dispatch came, Ruth 
opened it, and, as soon as she read it, called loudly 
for Mattie and Emma to come down-stairs to hold 
consultation over it. 

“ It is clear that I must go to John,” said Emma. 

“ But he don’t want you to go alone,” said 
Ruth. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


184 

“Aunt Lavvy is there. Emma won’t be alone/* 
added Mattie. 

“ Yes, but Emma will have to travel alone. More- 
over, Aunt Lavvy is so busy with her hospital that 
she won’t have much time to spare to Em,” observed 
Ruth. “ If it was not that Julian might get worse, 
and ma telegraph for us, either Mattie or I could go 
with you.” 

“Then let us send for Lola,” suggested Mattie; 
“ she can go with Em.” 

Emma shook her head, saying, — 

“ No ; I had rather go alone.” 

“ Why, I thought you liked Lola !” Mattie said, 
surprised. Emma colored as she replied, — 

“ I like her well enough, but I don’t want her with 
me.” 

A ring at the front door prevented Mattie from 
making any other embarrassing observation about 
Lola to Emma, and soon after a servant came in 
with another telegram, which he presented to Ruth 
in a silver tray, saying, “ Another, miss.” 

It was a dispatch from Lola to Mrs. Norval, beg- 
ging to permit her to accompany Mrs. Norval to 
Fortress Monroe. 

“That is cool,” said Emma, livid with jealousy. 

“ I think it is very kind,” said Mattie. 

“ But who told Lola that ma was to go to Fortress 
Monroe?” wondered Ruth. 

“ I did,” said Mattie. “ I told her that mamma 
was going, and we too might go if darling Jule got 
worse. And, of course, Lola wants to go too, for 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


I8 5 

she is v$r y fond of Julian ” “ I should think she 

was,” interrupted Emma — “ which is most natural,” 
finished Miss Mattie. 

“ I really don’t know what I am to do, except to 
inclose these two telegrams to ma, and let her say 
what shall be done,” Ruth said. 

After some further consultation, the wise council 
of three decided that, as the mails were irregular at 
times, Emma should go to Washington, and they 
would notify Mrs. Norval of it by telegraph ; they 
would also telegraph to her Lola’s dispatch. 

Ruth sat down at a table to pen a dispatch to her 
mother. After many corrections and alterations, and 
suggestions from Mattie and Emma, Ruth’s dispatch 
as sent to the telegraph-office ran thus : 

“To Mrs. Dr. Norval, Fortress Monroe: 

“ Emma goes to Washington. Captain Hackwell 
telegraphs is wounded. Lola wishes to go with you. 
Can she ? Let her know. Ruth Norval.” 

Whilst Ruth was writing this dispatch, Mattie was 
inditing another to Lola, which was as follows : 

“ Telegraph to mamma at Fortress Monroe. She 
is there now. No further news from Julian. 

“ Mattie Norval.” 

Mrs. Norval received Ruth’s telegram very little 
sooner than she would have received her letter. 
Telegraphing, being a monopoly, commands its own 
price and takes its own time. 

16* 


]86 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Lola, by some chance, was more fortunate, and got 
Mattie’s dispatch soon enough to take her advice and 
telegraph to Mrs. Norval. Her dispatch, though it 
went later, was received first. Mrs. Norval read it, 
and, with a bitter smile curling her lips, muttered, as 
she threw the dispatch in the fire, — 

“The impudence!” 

Towards evening Ruth’s dispatch arrived, and Mrs. 
Norval felt faint when she read it. 

The next morning, the letter inclosing Mr. Hack- 
well’s own telegram also arrived. 

What was to be done ? Julian was no worse, it is 
true, but the doctor did not yet wish to give her any 
hope. The young man lay there unconscious, be- 
tween life and death. 

Mrs. Norval was in despair. Suddenly a thought 
struck her. She would telegraph to Lavvy to come, 
so that if Julian got well enough for her to leave him 
for two or three days, she would run up to Wash- 
ington to see whether Emma wanted her or not. 
She must want her, the poor dear girl, without 
mother or father. Yes, it wa£ her duty to go to the 
dear orphan girl in her trouble. 

In great anxiety she waited by the bedside of her 
son the arrival of Lavvy’s reply. 

At last it came ; it ran thus : 

“ I cannot go ; lam taking care of Mr. Hackwell. 
Emma wants me here to help her. 


Lavinia Sprig.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


IS/ 

“ Oh ! the vixen ! Oh ! the hypocrite ! the miser- 
able old maid!” exclaimed Mrs. Norval, for the first 
time in her life carried away beyond all decorous 
control. “ She is after him, the bag of bones, and 
says Em wants her. Contemptible, to tell such 
lies !” 

And the stately matron, always quoted by all her 
own and the surrounding villages as a pattern of 
womanly virtues, and as a pink of propriety , indulged 
in abusive language ! She was alone, though, or at 
least nearly so, for she considered her half-dead son 
as incapable of hearing her, and in fact she had for- 
gotten him for those few moments. 

But Julian opened his eyes, and, seeing his mother 
so- distracted, tried to speak. 

She saw his lips move, and came immediately to 
the bedside. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE MAJOR IS THE OBJECT OF GREAT SOLICITUDE. 

“ Dear mother,” said Julian, in a scarcely audible 
whisper, “ don’t distress yourself so. I shall live. 
Father will come back.” 

Mrs. Norval shuddered. Her son’s voice seemed 
to come from the grave to call her back to her senses. 
A sharp pang shot through her heretofore impassible 
heart. She bent over until she rested her flushed 


X S3 WH0 WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


cheek close to that of her son, and for some moments 
she was unable to speak. Her remorse deprived her 
of the power to articulate. 

I have read somewhere the fable of a priest hold- 
ing in a bottle, and tied by a string, a lot of little 
devils, which he had exorcised out of different indi- 
viduals of both sexes. 

These imps, though powerless when thus ignomin- 
iously imprisoned and ganged together like galley 
convicts, would nevertheless do good service to the 
master who should be able to hold each one by itself. 
But so anxious were they to be at liberty, and so im- 
patient of restraint, that it was next to impossible to 
try to let any one free without the whole gang rush- 
ing out. Thus, when the priest tried to give one his 
liberty, out would rush the crowd pell-mell, and his 
reverence was obliged to pull the string and send back 
his imps into the bottle, or be mobbed by them. 

Mrs. Norval was now in a similar dilemma. No 
sooner had one of her imps escaped her control, than 
all rushed out unruly and riotous, and it is very 
doubtful whether the string by which she held them 
was as strong as that of the old priest. Perhaps 
she would never be able to bottle them up again. 

When that one passion — her love for Hackwell — 
was beyond her mastery, all her other imps ran riot 
in bacchanalian freedom, and she was jealous of her 
sister and hated her, and she forgot her dying son, 
and she did not mourn for her lost husband, who had 
been so good and generous to her. All she now 
thought of and longed for, was to see Hackwell, to 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


189 

be near him. That was the all-absorbing, uncontrol- 
lable impulse. 

How insidiously that love had crept into her heart! 
Slowly, stealthily, through the only avenue by which 
it was accessible, — her dark bigotry and her blind 
prejudices. Because Hackwell was in her opinion a 
very strict Presbyterian minister of the “ old school,” 
a good hater of all other sects, — particularly of po- 
pery (he said), — she began to like him. He was 
worthy of the old Covenanters, she thought, and of 
course was a model of Christian virtues. He hated 
the theatre and all other worldly dissipations, which 
he said ought to have been exterminated with fire 
and brimstone, together with the abominations of 
Sodom, and be now submerged under the bitter 
waters of the Dead Sea. Moreover, he said he hated 
foreigners and all things foreign, “ as every good 
American should,” and this was the first point of 
sympathetic contact between him and herself. If 
Mr. Hackwell had been worldly, Mrs. Norval would 
scarcely have been courteous to him ; if he had been 
of any other denomination or less strict a Presbyte- 
rian, she would not have tolerated him. Now, how- 
ever, he was safe to be anything he pleased. If he 
would turn comic actor, it is not improbable that she 
would have gone to see him perform. The accept- 
ance of a position in the army, she would have re- 
garded in any other preacher as most unbecoming. 
But in Hackwell it was a proof of the purest patriot- 
ism. Ah me ! such is poor humanity ! Cast not a 
stone — no, not a little pebble — at the madam, for, 


190 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


after all, she was very womanly when she was so ab- 
surdly silly. And who is not silly when truly in love ? 

So let us be charitable with her, — although she was 
never known to be so towards any one, — and learn 
not to pitch our voices so high as she did at the begin- 
ning of her song, for we also may find how difficult 
it is to maintain such diapason. 

She took her boy’s bloodless hand and kissed it 
humbly. She felt she was not what she should be, 
and was meek under the lash of conscience. 

Julian’s lips moved; she listened. 

“ Kiss me,” he said, and put up his lips to receive 
his mother’s kiss. She almost recoiled, but she could 
not deny it. She gave him the kiss, and the pure 
touch of his lips was the heavenly charm which un- 
sealed the fountain of her best feelings, her purest 
affections ; and the tears which had not flowed for her 
lost husband rushed to her eyes now, and she fell on 
her knees weeping by her boy’s bed. 

“ Do not cry, dear mother. I am very weak, but 
God will yet spare my life and, as if the effort to 
say this much had exhausted him, he weariedly closed 
his eyes and soon relapsed into slumber. 

Whilst Mrs. Norval watched by the bedside of her 
son, her imps kept well “ bottled up.” But at about 
ten o’clock Bingham, Julian’s servant, came to take 
his nightly watch, which would last until two, and 
then one of the hospital nurses relieved him until 
seven in the morning. When Bingham came, Mrs. 
Norval, after giving him instructions what to do, and 
charging him particularly to call her if there was 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


I 9 I 

any change in Julian, or if he called her, retired to 
her room. 

No sooner was she there alone than the whole 
gang rushed out again to play pranks about her, the 
wicked imps. 

It was useless to lie down. She could not sleep ; 
that she knew. What would she do ? To leave 
Julian now of course was out of the question; and 
yet, would it be safe to leave Lavinia there taking 
care of Hackwell ? No. They had been in love 
with each other ; and, for the very reason that 
Hackwell had been so cruelly faithless, he might 
wish to make amends now by marrying her. 

This thought nearly drove her crazy. 

Suddenly a thought came to her distracted brain. 
One of her imps brought the thought perhaps for 
the amusement of his companions. She thought she 
would telegraph to Lola to go to help Emma, and 
to Lavinia to come as soon as Lola reached Washing- 
ton. She sat by a table and wrote both telegrams so 
that they would be ready to leave early next morning. 

She ordered Lola to go immediately to Washington 
to help Emma, and Lavinia to be ready to leave 
there as soon as Lola arrived, and on the same day, 
if possible, to start for Fortress Monroe. 

Then the madam slept, whilst her imps played all 
sorts of tricks with her sleeping thoughts, and she 
dreamed of Hackwell. 

Terrible was the blow which that cruel telegram 
dealt at the breast of the tender Lavvy. 


192 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


She had watched by the bed of her long-loved 
John for ten days now, and those ten days had been 
the happiest of her life, — the captain had been so 
grateful, and expressed his gratitude so prettily to 
her. 

“ Lavvy,” he had said, fixing his lovely, irresistible 
eyes on her with a tender, mournful gaze that went 
straight to her heart, “ Lavvy, you are a good girl. 
I don’t deserve this from you. I deserve to be 
poisoned by you ; yes, by George, to be shot, for I 
did not behave to you as I should. But, believe me, 
my dear, I have suffered enough for it. Yes, enough 
to content you. I am well punished, I assure you.” 

“ I don’t want you to suffer, or — or — anything of 
the kind,” stammered Lavvy, in confusion, as this 
was the first allusion ever made by him to that brief 
episode so indelibly stamped on her memory. 

“ Of course you do not, for you are the best, the 
gentlest of angels. Can you forgive me ?” 

The entrance of the doctor here interrupted the 
dialogue. But that night, as she bade him good- 
night, he kissed her hand and called her “ good 
angel.” 

Next day Mrs. Cackle was about all day. Came 
to help Lavvy, — as if she wanted any help ! But the 
day after, again they were alone, and then he had 
gone so far as to say, — 

“ Tell me, dearest, can I ever do anything to make 
amends for the past?” But Lavvy had been so 
confused that she had not answered, and then Mrs. 
Cackle came. Why will a Mrs. Cackle always come 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


193 


at the wrong time ? Oh, those Cackles ! Always a 
Cackle ! 

The day after, Emma came. Still, Hackwell was 
very sweet to Lavvy, and Emma was very glad that 
she was so happy in taking care of him, as she felt 
no vocation for being a nurse. Two days after 
Emma’s arrival Mrs. Norval’s telegram came; and 
on the third, early in the morning, Lola, pale and 
fatigued, made her appearance. Poor child ! Little 
she relished to come to play nurse at the bedside of 
Hackwell, when her heart was by that of Julian. 

Lavvy and Emma received her very coldly; so 
much so that though Lola had the most amiable of 
dispositions, she said, resentfully, — 

“ I am sorry if I am de trop ; but I assure you I 
am as unwilling to come as you are to receive me ; 
and as we ail have to obey a superior will, suppose we 
make the best of the infliction and treat each other 
as kindly as we can.” 

Emma sneered, without answering ; but Lavvy felt 
that what Lola said was true, and that it would be 
very unjust to make Lola suffer for that which Mrs. 
Norval was alone to blame. 

“You are right, Lola. Jenny is a tyrant, and we 
are all her slaves,” she said. 

“ Mrs. Norval is a noble woman, — the best Chris- 
tian, best mother, best everything I ever did see; and 
what she does, she does actuated by the best and 
purest motives. She is perfectly unselfish, and she 
wishes us to do what is best for us all,” said Emma, 
with great vehemence. 

1 


17 


i 9 4 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“Why, you make her almost the equal of the 
Virgin Mary !” exclaimed Lola, astounded. 

“ I should think she was ! Why shouldn’t she be 
regarded as the equal of the Virgin Mary ?” 

“ Oh, what blasphemy !” ejaculated Lola, horrified, 
stopping her ears, for fear of hearing any more of 
such sentiments. 

“ Come, Lola, come to my room,” said Lavvy, cut- 
ting the discussion short. “Your room has not a 
fire ; I did not expect you until this evening.” And, 
so saying, Lavvy took Lola to her own room. “ Take 
off your things here, and lie down if you feel sleepy,” 
she said. 

“ I do ; for I have not been able to sleep. I never 
can sleep in the cars.” 

“ Then why did you take the night train ?” 

“ Because Mrs. Norval said, ‘ Go immediately to 
Washington.’ I left my trunk behind, to be sent to 
me by to-day’s train. The sisters will pack it and 
send it. I only had time to throw on my bed the 
things I wished to take, and I suppose I forgot 
half.” 

“ I don’t know what makes Jenny in such a hurry. 
She telegraphed to me, ‘ Be ready to leave on the 
same day that Lola arrives ;’ but I am not going to 
break my neck to obey her. I’ll go to-morrow after- 
noon in the train that goes to Baltimore at two 
o’clock, and not a minute sooner. And if it were 
not that dear Julian is so sick, I wouldn’t go until 
Monday. I haven’t anything ready.” 

“ Oh, how I wish I could go in your place ! Why 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


195 


couldn’t Mrs. Norval let me go to help her? I am 
sure there can be no impropriety in my helping to 
take care of Julian, when she is there herself. I 
should think it would be better to leave you with 
Emma, than to send for me to come to chaperon 
her.” 

“ Yes, when she is quite old enough to be your 
mother,” added Lavvy. “But it is of no use remon- 
strating. Jenny has all her life been obeyed, and she 
would drop dead with surprise, if any of her slaves 
had the hardihood to remonstrate. Her imperious- 
ness drove that best of men, dear James, away. He 
was too high-minded to bear her mean tyranny ; and, 
as she would insist on ruling, right or wrong, he 
went away. His wife had more to do with his going 
away than his politics. I speak thus frankly because 
you know it as well as I. Now try to take a nap. 
I’ll send you your breakfast up.” 

The happiest man in the world was the gallant 
commissary that day. 

As Lola was in no hurry to assume her duties of 
nurse, she did not make her appearance in the cap- 
tain’s sick-room, which was the back parlor of the 
house occupied by Lavvy and Mrs. Cackle, husband 
and two daughters. 

Captain Hackwell thus had time to pay somewhat 
more attention to his personal appearance, and indite 
the sweetest little epistle to Mrs. Norval expressive 
of his deep gratitude for her infinite kindness. 

Although it will be anticipating a trifling circum- 
stance, I shall here mention that this note was an- 


igS WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

swered promptly by Mrs. Norval, and that when the 
captain, all perfumed, brushed, and shaved, sat in his 
bed waiting for Lola and Emma to come to breakfast 
with him, and read her answer, he ejaculated a long 
“Whew-ew!” and then fell back on his pillows con- 
vulsed with laughter. “ Upon my word, this is rich !” 
he said, between peals of laughter. “ So my elo- 
quence began the sad havoc, eh? And I am an 
Ithuriel! Poor old lady; then she makes herself a 
devil. A woman in love will make anything of her- 
self, but I never thought the madam was a woman. 
Ithuriel \ to be sure, and without any spear ; but with 
a single kiss I caused the mask to fall. Very good, 
Mrs. Norval. You had better let similes alone. Mil- 
tonic quotations are not your forte, no, not more so 
than the biblical. But as for these, I’ll warrant that 
you will let them severely alone, now that I have 

kicked against the pulpit ” 

The entrance of Emma and Lola interrupted the 
captain’s mirthful monologue, but he was wittier than 
ever during breakfast, and all day laughed occasion- 
ally to himself. 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


19 7 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

MRS. NORVAL’s CONSCIENCE SPEAKS LOUDLY. 

If human sorrow had a material, specific gravity, 
a weight proportionate to its magnitude, the Balti- 
more train in which Lavinia sat could not have moved 
unless with the addition of an extra locomotive, 
such was the misery of the gentle maiden on leav- 
ing the handsome, fascinating Hackwell. 

But trains can pull any amount of wretchedness, 
and Lavinia did not in the least impede its lightning 
flight ; and in due time she sat on the deck of one of 
the “ Old Dominion Line” of steamers, without her 
sorrow causing the steamer to draw a half-inch more 
of water. 

Next morning, at the unchristian hour of five, 
Lavvy was landed at Fortress Monroe, sore at heart 
and weary of life, wondering what she had ever done 
to Fate, that the capricious dame should take such a 
spite against her. 

Mrs. Norval had not thought, until too late, to 
send any one to meet her sister: so there was Lavvy 
left on the wharf, shivering in the raw air of a misty, 
dreary morning, without knowing where to go. 
Presently she discovered an officer who was talking 
to some men. Her first impulse was to go and ask 
the officer if he knew where she could find Colonel 
17* 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


I98 

Norval. But, remembering the very young man of 
the red whiskers at the War Office, she forbore, and 
preferred to trust to the civility of a colored gin’leman 
who was there warming his hands in his pockets. 

“ Can you tell me, sir, where are Colonel Norval’s 
quarters ?” 

The colored citizen looked at her, scratched his 
head, and, turning to another darkey, said, — 

“ I say, Sam, can you tell the lady where is the 
quarter of Col’nel Newgo ?” Sam only shook his 
head, too lazy to speak. The officer, however, heard 
the question, and, seeing Lavvy alone, came to ask if 
she was inquiring for some one. Lavvy told him yes, 
she wished to find Colonel Norval. The officer then 
told her that she would have to go to the government 
hospitals, erected near Hampton, for the colonel was 
in one of those hospitals ; and the officer pointed the 
way thither, and that was all he could do. 

Lavvy was ready to cry ; she felt so forlorn. But 
we have seen what a Mark Tapley she could be in 
the midst of misery. So she made the best of her 
cruel situation, and by eight o’clock she had suc- 
ceeded in getting a conveyance. As she was about 
to get into it, up drove Bingham, who had been 
sent by Mrs. Norval to escort her. 

The reception which Lavvy met was not at all cal- 
culated to cheer her sinking spirit. Animosity, al- 
most hatred, glared in the hazel eyes of Mrs. Norval. 
But Lavvy had no time to more than notice her sin- 
gular manner, for, as she went in, her eyes rested on 
the pale face of Julian, who looked as if already dead. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


1 99 


Lavinia forgot everything at the sight of her be- 
loved nephew. She forgot Hackwell, even, for she 
loved Julian better than any member of her family, 
with all the devotion of her unselfish, loyal heart. 
She hastened to Julian’s bed, saying, — 

“ My darling boy, is it possible that you are so 
very ill ?” 

“ I should think he was. Did you ever know me 
to exaggerate ?” replied Mrs. Norval. 

Julian slowly opened his eyes, and, in his weak, 
scarcely audible voice, said, — 

“ Dear Lavvy, I am so glad you came.” 

“Are you, darling? I promise I shall not leave 
you now. I regret, in my heart, I did not realize be- 
fore you were so ill.” 

From that moment Lavvy, now quite an experi- 
enced nurse, assumed the principal care of Julian, to 
whom she devoted all her time. 

There was very little conversation between the 
sisters. One hated, the other feared. 

Meantime, the task of Capt. Hackwejl’s nurses was 
quite easy; their patient was the most cheerful of 
invalids. He was more than cheerful ; he was witty, 
amusing, brilliant, in his sick-bed. He liked to have 
his two nurses constantly by him, and they spent an 
hour or more after each meal with him, and every 
evening besides. The surgeon said that though the 
captain’s wound was doing very well, still he would 
not be able to walk for two months perhaps, or more. 
But the brave Hack received this announcement with 
a placid smile, and a sweet glance towards Lola. She, 


200 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


however, received it with a feeling of dread. She 
feared she would be compelled to remain in Wash- 
ington, when her whole soul was by the side of that 
other sick-bed in the wooden hospital of Uncle Sam, 
by the ragged little town of Hampton. 

By that bed now was sitting Mrs. Norval, with con- 
tracted lowering brow. Lavinia sat with her, and it 
is not at all improbable that the thoughts of both 
sisters took telegraphic trips to Washington. 

Poor Lavvy ! she considered that her last chance to 
catch Hackwell had forever gone by, and she thought 
that her sister might have thought of that. 

So she did, but with a different result from what 
innocent Lavvy imagined. One thing is certain, 
and that is, that if Julian had not been the invalid 
in question, Lavvy, driven to her last hope, would 
have rebelled and returned to Washington, when 
she met such a cold, almost insulting, reception from 
her sister. 

But the invalid was dear Julian, now lying there 
so helpless, so weak, his superb eyes so sunken, his 
white hand resting motionless by his side. No, she 
could not leave him thus, for she knew that she un- 
derstood better how to take care of him than his 
mother. 

So ran Lavinia’s thoughts for the thousandth time 
that rainy evening, when she and her sister sat by 
Julian’s bedside. He slept quietly. The fever had 
abated, and the doctor was very sanguine of his re- 
covery. 

“ If Julian continues to improve,” said Mrs. Norval, 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


201 


looking down uneasily, though her sister could not 
see her face well in the darkened room, “ and if the 
doctor says he is out of danger, I think I had better 
run up to Washington to see those two girls. It 
doesn’t look exactly proper to leave them alone for so 
long.” 

Lavvy thought much, but answered nothing. 

“ I think you can take care of Julian quite as well 
as I do, and with the help of Bingham and the hos- 
pital nurse you will get along for a few days. It 
might be criticised that I leave two girls there with- 
out a matron for a long time.” 

“ Mrs. Cackle is in the same house, and goes to 
see tfte - girls every day. Lola writes to me that 
either Mrs. Cackle, or Lucretia, or Artemisia, is 
there every day, and all are old enough to give 
respectability to a regiment of girls. Lola says, 
too, that Mr. Hackwell is very cheerful, and that, al- 
though he is not allowed to leave his bed, he doesn’t 
even look &ick.” 

Both sisters were silent for the rest of the even- 
ing, and at eight o’clock they made the usual ar- 
rangements for the night, which they divided into 
four watches. Mrs. Norval took the first, being the 
easiest; then Lavvy the second, from eleven to one; 
then Bingham the third, from one to four, and the 
hospital nurse from four until seven, when Lavvy 
again relieved him. 

A few days after the above conversation, the 
sisters again sat near Julian’s bed. He was visibly 
improving now. He had asked for Lola and his 

i* 


202 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


sisters, and if they were not coming to see him. 
He had been sleeping very quietly, evidently free 
from fever. 

“ I was thinking that as Julian is out of danger, I 
cannot conscientiously leave those two girls alone in 
Washington. It does not look proper, and I cannot 
permit it.” 

“ I think you ought to send for Lola ; that , I most 
emphatically recommend. But as for Emma, there 
can be no impropriety in her being with her brother. 
Lola is very anxious to go away, and she must have 
some good reason for it. She indicates as much in 
all her letters.” 

“ She has the good reason that she wishes to come 
to see Julian; but she had better give that up, for 
I shall not permit it.” 

“I know Lola wants to see Julian, and she cries 
bitterly because you don’t let her do so ; but I know, 
too, that she does have some other reasons for wish- 
ing to go away.” 

“ A desire to contradict me and oppose my wishes, 
as she has always done.” 

“ I think you are mistaken; and, putting things to- 
gether, let me tell you that though Mr. Hackwell is 
old enough to be Lola’s father, it was evident that he 
was more than pleased to see Lola. He was so em- 
barrassed, too, when she went to his bed to shake 
hands with him the day she arrived. He blushed 
and stammered like a school-boy, and he was so ex- 
cited that he trembled all over and could hardly 
speak.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


203 


Oh ! the horrible dagger that Lavinia was thrust- 
ing into her sister’s heart ! Could she be saying this 
because she, the lean old maid, was jealous ? When 
Mrs. Norval was able to speak, she said, — 

“ And why haven’t you told me this before ?” 

“ Because, in the first place, I was not sure that I 
was right, until Lola’s letters have oonfirmed my ob- 
servations. Secondly, because, when I came, you ac- 
cused me of wishing to remain to catch Hackwell, 
and you might have said that I was slandering him 
out of jealousy.” 

“ I shall go to-morrow night, and if what you say 
is true, I shall pack Miss Lola for her convent, post 
haste.” 

“ Send Lola to me, mother, if you care for my life,” 
said the weak voice of Julian, who, unobserved, had 
listened most attentively to their conversation. 

What might have been Mrs. Norval’s reply to her 
son’s appeal, we can never know, for at that moment 
an orderly, bringing the Washington mail, came in to 
interrupt their conversation, to Mrs. Norval’s great 
relief. 

Among the letters brought that day, was one 
addressed to Mrs. Norval, in the fine well-formed 
characters of Lola’s pen, which looked as if litho- 
graphed. With a trembling hand the lady opened the 
letter, and her agitation increased as she perused it. 

Lola demanded to be permitted to leave Wash- 
ington. She said she did not wish to put in writing 
her reasons for this request, but that they were of 
so grave a character as to justify her in going away 


204 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


without permission. She did not wish to do that, 
and hoped that Mrs. Norval would let her join her, or 
go back to her convent. 

What was to be done ? Mrs. Norval had intended 
to make a visit only, to Washington, and return in a 
few days. Lavinia could take care of Julian, but 
she had not been very well lately. She had had a 
chill and then a fever twice, and, if left alone, she 
might find the task of nursing Julian too much for 
her strength. Mrs. Norval felt as if her heart had 
collapsed and her brain was bursting. She felt she 
must ascertain the full meaning of Lola’s letter or die 
of suffocation. 

In this terrible state of mind, the dignified matron 
went to bed. 

Lavinia had another chill that night, and fever next 
day. The chills now came regularly every other day. 
Mrs. Norval, of course, did not leave that evening, — 
how could she ? — nor the day after. 

On the third day, very early in the morning, when 
Mrs. Norval was eating a very light breakfast, — for 
she had lost her appetite, — a boy brought in a tele- 
gram which, by mistake, was addressed to Julian. 
He motioned to Lavvy to read it; Lavvy did so, and 
read aloud, — 

“To Mrs. Norval, care of Colonel Norval: 

“ I leave this afternoon, — will be with you to-mor- 
row morning. 

“ Lola Medina.” 

It was evident that the telegram had been sent the 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


205 


day before, but the employees of the telegraph-offices 
had, as usual, taken their time to deliver it. 

“ Why, Lola will be here this morning! This tel- 
egram was sent yesterday,” said Lavvy. 

Julian sat up in bed, and demanded to be shaved 
immediately. He had not been able to do more than 
lift his head to take his medicine and a little nourish- 
ment. But there he sat now, anxious to make his 
toilette. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

MRS. NORVAL’s CONSCIENCE WAXES DICTATORIAL. — SHE 
OBEYS. 

Julian had no time to be shaved, for there was 
Lola at the door, inquiring if Mrs. Norval lived there. 
On hearing which inquiry, the stately lady arose, 
with more precipitation than usually accompanied 
her movements, and went to meet Lola. But stupid 
Bingham opened the door, saying, “ Here, Miss Lola, 
here are all.” 

“ What is the meaning of this ? Why do you 
come away in this manner?” was Mrs. Norval’s 
salutation. 

“ Because there was no other, and I couldn’t stay 
there,” Lola replied. 

“ What do you mean ?’’ 

“ By-and-by I will tell you all.” 

18 


206 who WOULD have thought it? 


“ Mother, oh, mother, bring her to me !” said the 
feeble voice of Julian in the next room. 

Lola did not wait to be brought to him; as soon 
as she heard his voice she rushed by Mrs. Norval, 
and at one bound was in the next room.' 

“Lola, darling!” exclaimed Julian, extending his 
weak arms towards her. 

Now, if those arms had been strong, she would 
certainly have kept away from them, no matter how 
lovingly they had been extended to her. But the 
poor arms were so thin and weak, they seemed so to 
implore sympathy, that she forgot all "her resolves 
and Mrs. Norval’s frowns, and she obeyed the appeal 
and went straight to them, and for the first time 
Julian’s lips touched her fresh, rosy cheek, all flushed 
with the morning air and her happiness. 

Injustice to Lola, it must be stated that she had 
passed the greater part of the night tracing for her- 
self a “prospectus” of her future conduct towards 
Julian, which was so strict and circumspect that 
Mrs. Norval herself could not have found a single 
fault with it. But she had not thought that Julian 
would look like this. He was so pale, so very weak, 
that she forgot the rigid prospectus, and felt nothing 
but the tenderest pity and sympathy. 

He sank back exhausted after that grand effort ; 
but, as Lola still held his hand, he soon revived 
again. 

When Mrs. Norval that evening heard from Lola 
that Hackwell had actually proposed to her; that he 
had begged her to marry him, and had said that he 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


207 


had loved her always, even when others thought her 
an Indian ; th^t he would die for her, do anything 
she ordered him to do, then Mrs. Norval’s little gang 
broke the string and got out of their bottle indeed, 
and it is doubtful whether they ever went back again. 
Still, she spoke very calmly to Lola ; for she knew 
that her face, which was livid, could not be seen in 
the darkened room. She said, — 

“I am inclined to think that you misunderstood 
Mr. Hackwell. He jests sometimes, though so very 
dignified generally. Girls sometimes think that gen- 
tlemen mean more than they do.” 

“ Mr. Hackwell was very explicit, I assure you, and 
would become impatient when I tried to turn off his 
words as if said in jest. I noticed, too, that Emma 
always left me alone with him ; so I had no choice 
but to go away. I told him I would tell you all; so 
do not imagine I am acting a double part. I am not 
afraid of him.” 

“ I do not suppose you are. No one can accuse 
you of wanting in boldness.” 

“ You are always severe with me, madam. But 
what I meant was that I am so sure of my not 
having mistaken him, that I am not at all afraid he 
will think I have exaggerated or misstated his 
words.” 

“ I don’t know that the matter will be mentioned 
at all ; I don’t suppose he cares. But, as Emma, of 
course, cannot be left all alone, I shall go and see if 
I can get some married lady to stay with her until 
Mr. Hackwell can be removed to New York.” 


208 WHO WOULD have thought it? 


“ Mrs. Cackle is there all the time, and her two 
daughters.” 

“ I’ll see for myself.” So saying, Mrs. Norval 
arose with great dignity, and the interview was ended. 

Lola saw that she had mortally offended the lady, 
but she did not know how. She had not told half of 
what Hackwell had had the impudence to say. And 
Hackwell had certainly made a fool of himself, and 
had gone so far as to say to Lola that he hated Mrs. 
Norval for that matron’s undisguised aversion to 
Lola. This, Lola was too honorable to repeat, and 
it is well she did not, for Mrs. N. would never have 
believed that of Hackwell. 

Julian improved as if by miracle, and the second 
evening after Lola’s arrival Mrs. Norval announced 
her intention to take that night’s steamer for Balti- 
more, feeling that she could do so “ conscientiously,” 
— nay, more, that it was “her duty ” to do so. 

“ Emma is alone, and my conscience reproves me. 
As long as Julian was in danger, my duty was to be 
here ; but now my duty is to go there,” said Mrs. 
Norval to Lavvy. ( And her gang of unbottled imps 
no doubt laughed and skipped about in joy, and 
clapped their hands, knowing that the madam would 
take them all to Washington, which is a city very 
congenial to all unbottled little imps, and where the 
jolly crew would have abundant fun. \ 

They were not mistaken. They all accompanied 
the madam, and, having had a prosperous journey, 
on the second day they were with her by the bedside 
of the fascinating Hack, who pretended to be quite 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


209 

prostrate, and exhausted with pain, in order to gain 
time and sympathy. 

But the madam either saw through it, or was too 
irate to be tender ; so, with a tinge of irony in her tone, 
she said, when Emma had prudently left them alone, — 

“ What has caused this relapse ? When Lola left 
you, you were very cheerful and quite strong.” 

Hackwell groaned, and said, — 

“ I have been very imprudent. I tried to walk, and 
it has brought on inflammation. I hope I shall not have 
to resort to amputation.” And he watched with half- 
closed eyelids the effect that this fearful prospect of 
his hopping on one leg would have on the madam. 
Her face was. just as hard. There was neither fear 
nor pity in it. 

“ She is angry beyond propitiation,” thought Hack- 
well. “ Very well ; tyrants are cowards, as a general 
thing, and if that little scamp Lola has carried out 
her threat and told her all, then I might as well have 
it over now, and see who is to be the master.” So he 
groaned again, and closed his eyes, remaining silent. 

“ Perhaps you wish to be alone, Mr. Hackwell ; if 
so, I shall retire,” said she, in a voice trembling with 
anger. 

Languidly he opened his eyes and replied, — 

“ I fear it is very dull for you here, my dear friend. 
I thank you for your kindness ; if you wish to go, 
please send Emma to me.” 

Mrs. Norval rose and left the room, too indignant 
to speak. Emma came in, and found her brother con- 
vulsed with laughter. 

18* 


210 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“What is the matter? Mrs. Norval was so pale 
when she told me you wanted me, that I thought 
something had happened to you.” 

“ Nothing has happened. Shut the door and come 
here by me. I’ll tell you what it is.” 

Emma closed the door and sat by her brother. 

“ Look here, Em, you and I are alone in the world, 
of all our family, except little John. Well, we will 
have to work for each other. I fear Lola has told 
Mrs. Norval all, and ” 

“ Of course she did ; she said she would, — the — 
the — spotted mongrel, the- ” 

“ Hush ! no abusive epithets. You know she is no 
more a spotted Indian than yourself. And I tell you 
this frankly, that in trying to win Lola away from 
Julian to leave you the coast clear, I got to like the 
girl more than is good for my comfort. But I know 
she is too deeply in love with the other to like me or 
any one else. Now, as we cannot win Lola away from 
Julian, and we want money, we must try to get 
both Julian and money in some other way, and that 
way is the old woman, — I beg her pardon, — the 
madam.” 

“ But how are we to do that?” 

“Very easily, my child. Don’t laugh loud, and 
I’ll tell you a tale that doesn’t require the moonlight, 
and can as well be told by a kerosene lamp. In 
short, the old lady is fearfully smitten.” 

“What!” 

“ Do you promise secrecy ?” 

“ Of course I do.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


2 1 1 


“Well, she is in the last stages of love with your 
humble servant.” 

“ Oh, John ! you tell it in such a ridiculous way, 
that you make me laugh.” 

“ Could the thing be told in any way that would 
not be ridiculous ? But that is not the point. The 
point is, that it is our interest to humor her. She 
loved me — she says — for my virtues, eloquence, and 
edifying example as a minister of the gospel, and 
my patriotism in leaving my sacred calling to offer 
my services and my life to my bleeding country. She 
says all this to justify herself in her own eyes — the 
hypocrite — for being so ready to fall in love within 
two weeks after she heard of the death of her hus- 
band. But I am not the one to find fault with that, 
though I think it contemptible to be finding reasons 
to love, when it is well known that the truest love is 
generally the one that has no foundation at all. How- 
ever, I don’t want to preach on the subject, only you 
take your cue.” 

After some further talk, brother and sister laid down 
their plans, and retired for the night. 


212 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

MRS. NORVAL’S VIRTUOUS IMPULSE REWARDED. 

( 

Of ah the jolly gangs of unbottled imps which 
in Washington hold nightly bacchanalian carousal, 
none were merrier than Mrs. Norval’s^ They danced 
and frolicked around her as she wandered in restless 
walk about her room, or lay down to think and cry , 
and never to sleep. 

Next morning she looked at herself in the glass. 
She was horrified. She was so old, so very old. 
That would never do. What a fool she was to fret 
so and ruin her looks, she thought, and began a care- 
ful toilette. How was it possible to win Hackwell 
from Lola, so young, so beautiful, so fresh ? Still, 
she redoubled her efforts, and the excitement gave 
her an animated look, which was better than the 
haggard one with which she began her toilette. 

The charming invalid was better this morning, and, 
though he was rather pale, his handsome dark eyes 
shone clear and bright ; he was very, Very handsome. 
So thought the madam, too. 

But, withal, for once his eloquence had failed to 
make her think j ust what he liked. He saw this, and, 
as she constantly referred to Lola, he said, — 

“ Why do you keep alluding to Lola ? It is not 
possible that you are jealous of that child ?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


213 


“Oh, no! That, of course, was impossible” She 
blushed, because she knew she was telling a false- 
hood. “Why should she be jealous? she had no 
right to be.” 

“You have a right, if you wish to have it; but 
you have no cause.” 

Again the matron blushed like a girl ; but she was 
not convinced. He continued: 

“ If Lola told you that I flirted with her, she told 
you the truth. I paid her all sorts of compliments, 
and told her that if I was a millionaire I would marry 
her and take her to Europe to outshine all the prin- 
cesses there. But, you see, as there is no danger of 
my being a millionaire, I think I am safe in saying all 
that. It was all very well as long as she laughed, 
but the fact was that she was dying to go to Julian, 
and all of a sudden it struck her that my love-mak- 
ing wo.uld be an excellent excuse to go to him. Then 
she told me I wasn’t behaving like a gentleman, and 
she would not stay under the same roof with me 
another day, and telegraphed she was going, and in 
two hours she was off. She was candid, though, and 
told me she would tell you everything. This threat, 
however, did not alarm me, for I thought you would 
see how it all was. But I fear that you do not have 
the confidence in me which ” 

“Yes, I have. Forgive me, John, — I mean Captain 
Hackwell,— I have confidence; but ” 

“ But you haven’t. Well, then, let my short dream 
be over. We will be the same good friends of old, 
and no more. When people are of our age, it is time 


214 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


they should discard foolish jealousies, as most un- 
profitable, and annoying, and ridiculous. If two per- 
sons who love each other cannot have full confidence 
in one another, they are better separated than united.” 

Mrs. Norval was very sorry, very repentant and 
submissive, and — and — very loving. 

Before the week was over, they were engaged to be 
married. Their engagement was to be a profound 
secret. 

“ If there was any hope of Lola ! But that is next 
to impossible ! Heigh-ho ! meantime, my rights of 
betrothed might help me. Who can tell ? Fortune 
favors the bold — allonsT exclaimed the invalid. 

Captain Hackwell was not the man to lose anytime 
in enforcing what he termed his “rights of betrothed.” 

“Jenny, darling, we must not forget Em in our 
happiness. The poor child is fretting herself into a 
skeleton, because Lola is with Julian,” said his ex- 
reverence, a day or two after the solemn pledging of 
their vows. 

“ I’ll write this very day to Lavvy that Lola must 
return at once to her convent.” 

And she did write, and Lavvy, of course, told Lola 
what Mrs. Norval’s orders were ; but Julian said Lola 
should not go, that Lavvy was not strong enough to 
take any care upon herself, and he knew he would 
have a relapse the very day Lola left. So Lavvy, 
after a day or two, sent that answer to her sister. 

Immediately came flashing through the telegraphic 
wires an order for Lola to leave forthwith. 

Julian’s pale face flushed with anger. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


215 


“ This is the work of that renegade parson, I know,” 
he said. “ Please, Lola, sit by that table and write 
what I dictate. It is but a short dispatch to mother.” 
Lola obeyed, and wrote as he dictated : 

“ Lola will leave by next steamer ; too warm to go 
by the cars. Julian Norval.” 

“ Next steamer will leave in a week, and then there 
will be another,” added Julian to Lola and Lavvy, 
“ and we will go together.” 

This plan was charming, and the three were very 
happy to wait or go together. 

In the mean time, several days passed without any 
telegraphic orders ; and that was very pleasant. One 
came the day they were to start, which Julian put in 
the fire, saying he would answer it from New York. 

The first news Mrs. Norval had of the three run- 
aways came in a letter from Ruth, in which she said 
that, two days previously, Julian, with Lola and La- 
vinia, had arrived, and that — it being now nearly the 
end of June — Lola had written to her convent, say- 
ing that she would not return until September, as the 
summer vacation commenced the 1st of July. 

Mrs. Norval was too angry to speak. 

Captain Hackwell would have been more so, if there 
had been any use in it. But the captain was a great 
utilitarian, and had a contempt for anything useless. 
He could not help cursing Julian, in his heart, for 
having thus checkmated them, but he would not even 
waste breath in a useless oath. 

Blandly, therefore, he told his dear Jemima to be 


216 WHO would have thought it? 

calm, and that, though it was a surprise to both, she 
must go to New York for the sake of their poor Em. 
Hearing which, Emma burst out crying; and her 
tears being very rare were of course the more 
effective. 

Mrs. Norval lingered yet a few days ; then, accom- 
panied by Emma, took her departure. 

Captain Hackwell would follow in ten days or a fort- 
night, as he would then be able to walk to and from 
a carriage ; and his duties as commissary did not re- 
quire any more. 

Like a bombshell Mrs. Norval fell on her family 
one day. But, as Julian was used to bombshells, he 
was not in the least disconcerted. He had, more- 
over, a good masked battery in the oath he had made 
to his father not to marry without his consent, and 
this battery the madam did not even suspect. 

Before Mrs. Norval went to bed that night, she had 
obtained from Ruth a full report of Julian’s and Lola’s 
conduct towards each other ; and, as she looked ex- 
ceedingly vexed, Ruth said, — 

“ Why, ma, I thought you knew it all. Where 
have been your eyes, not to have seen that those two 
are stupidly in love with each other ? And, let me tell 
you, Lavvy and Mattie quite favor their attachment ; 
that much is clear too, though, to be sure, I haven’t 
much time to watch anybody, as I am too busy, with 
my summer things not half done and July ’most here.” 

“Why are not your things done ?” 

“ Because, whilst Julian was so ill, of course I did 
not know but what we might go in mourning, and 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


21 7 


what was the use of having such a lot of light silks 
made ? That is why I asked you to tell me every 
day how Julian was; but I don’t know why you 
almost forgot us. I would have had my things ’most 
ready now, if you had told me in time that Jule was 
out of danger.” 

In a few days, however, several Saratoga trunks, 
as big as houses, stood there, all packed full of the 
dry-goods which composed the elegant and costly out- 
fit of the Misses Norval for their summer campaign. 

Julian, though weak yet and very pale, had left the 
day before, just in time to arrive at Gettysburg before 
the firing commenced. 

“ What a bother !” exclaimed Ruth, looking at her 
Saratoga trunks. “ Now we will have to wait until 
we hear whether Jule is killed or not, before I can 
wear my new things. He will surely be wounded ; 
he always is.” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

MESSRS. WAGG AND HEAD TRAVEL TOGETHER. 

In less than a fortnight after Mrs. Norval’s depart- 
ure, Commissary Hackwell was ready to start for the 
city of New York. Through the powerful interces- 
sion of the Cackles, he had been assigned to duty as 
purchasing officer in that city. 

Those almighty Cackles had also demanded from 
a just government — ever ready to reward merit — that 

k 19 


218 WHO would have thought it? 

the gallant Captain Hackwell (who was captain by 
brevet only) should have still another brevet, and be 
henceforth called “ major" which was done. 

At the request of the Hon. Beau Cackle, the major 
engaged for his head clerk one Mr. Albino Skroo, a 
Hungarian, who married an American lady, and with 
her thrived under the warm shelter of a high digni- 
tary’s wing. Mr. Skroo described himself as having 
been the bosom friend of Kossuth, with whom he 
suffered for the love of liberty. That same love pulled 
him so hard to this country that he was obliged to 
leave the Turkish army, where he was serving with 
great glory. The Sultan wept with grief at “ General 
Skroo’s” departure, and General Skroo’s eyes filled 
with tears at the recollection, making his story more 
plausible. Nevertheless, there was a look about Mr. 
Skroo which suggested the probability of his having 
tried the bastinado , and afterwards, using a poetical 
license, spoke of the Sultan’s weeping instead of his 
own. Mr. Skroo liked freedom. 

General Julius Caesar Cackle also had his own pro- 
teges . He, on his part, recommended very strongly 
to the major, for his two assistants, two favorites of 
his — two very nice young men — friends of the gen- 
eral. These two young men had started to run with 
the general at the battle of Bull Run, but the general, 
being swifter, had distanced them. Still the general 
remembered that one of the young men had said, — 
“ Take that path, captain : it is shorter.” 

And the other had said, — 

“ There is a horse and buggy, captain.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


219 


And thus Julius had found a shorter path, and a 
horse which took him to safety, to the Hon. Gunn, 
and to glory. 

These two young men were then privates in a 
zouave regiment ; now they were lieutenants, and, in 
fine, not to keep the^reader in suspense, — which, by- 
the-by, I notice is a very popular sort of artifice freely 
employed by “ sensational ” novelists, — as my aspira- 
tions are humble — which these pages sufficiently 
demonstrate — I will at once say that these two nice 
young men recommended by General Cackle were no 
other than the witty Lieutenant HLschylus Wagg and 
the poetical and musical Lieutenant Sophocles Head, 
mentioned before as marching to Bull Run. 

In addition to that of General Cackle, the ex-mem- 
ber of Congress, the Hon. Le Grand Gunn had put 
in his recommendation most especially in behalf of 
Lieutenant ^Eschylus Wagg, the witty. 

In the opinion of Lieutenant Head, next to going to 
paradise was to be on duty in New York City; and 
if anything could add to this supreme happiness, it 
was that of having for companion Wagg, the witty. 

So, as both youths oscillated and bobbed up and 
down, sitting in the same seat in the cars, on a hot 
July day, Lieutenant Head expressed his gratification 
in this manner : 

“ I say, Wagg, it never rains but it pours. Don’t it, 
old fellow?” 

“ It seems to me the sun is shining like a potful 
of hell-fire. But you are a poet, and probably see 
snow,” growled Wagg. 


220 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT?, 


Head knew that when Wagg was in ill humor, or 
wished to tease him, he always used profane language, 
which the tender soul of Head disapproved. So he 
timidly explained : 

“ I mean the good luck of being ordered to New 
York, and on the same duty, so that we can be to- 
gether.” 

“ I don’t see either that I can call that a remarkable 
piece of good luck, and I don’t thank that cursed Le 
Grand Gunn for it, d — n him. I know why he wanted 
me out of the way. He was afraid that if I remained, 
Lucinda would send him afloat ; and she shall yet, 
curse him. He knows she is only too partial to me.” 

“You needn’t be cursing that good gentleman, 
who, I am sure, is very moral and a good Christian, 
and don’t care whether Lucinda is partial to you or 
not, for it was / who asked Major Hackwell to bring 
you. Mr. Gunn only smiled, and said you were a 
most gallant soldier and a worthy young man, and 
he hoped the major would bring you, because you 
deserved it.” 

“ I wish he’d get what he deserves. He’d be the 
devil’s spittoon.” 

“You talk awfully! How can you? Mr. Gunn 
spoke most kindly of you.” 

“You are the same old f Soft Head ’ of the red 
breeches, and your twaddle makes me furious. How 
can you be such an unmitigated fool as to imagine 
that because you — Soffy — asked the major, he brought 
me? Only in your soft head could such a blunt idea 
penetrate, — always a softy !” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


221 


“ You needn’t be making fun of my name, for yours 
ain’t any prettier, as I know of.” 

“ Yes, and I may thank you for that, d — n you.” 

“ I ain’t your father or your godfather, as I know 
of. Curse some one else.” 

“ If we were not in the cars, I would mash your 
soft skull for you,” said Wagg, livid with rage, glaring 
at his companion. 

That this interesting and polished little dialogue 
may be understood, it shall be explained. 

When these two officers were privates in the zouave 
regiment, both were in the same company, and great 
friends, until one day, when getting ready for a review, 
there were many men together, and the mail was 
brought and letters were handed to several of them. 
With these letters came one addressed to “Private 
Hischylus Wagg.” Head, being near the man hand- 
ing out the letters, took, to give to Wagg, the one 
addressed to him. In so doing, he glanced at the 
address, and read aloud, “^Eschylus Wagg,” and 
added, “ Why, Wagg, that is my brother’s name, and 
it makes him furious to be called Scaly — for short — 
but so we call him.” 

The men laughed, for it was known in the company 
that such was Wagg’s sobriquet. 

From that day, Wagg had occasional fits of aver- 
sion towards the mild and patient Head. One day, 
when Wagg had been more than usually irritable to- 
wards Head, the latter said to him, — 

“ Now, Wagg, your name ain’t so bad. Just think 
of my brother ! he will be Scaly Head all his life. 

19* 


222 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


And me, because my name is Sophocles, I am called 
Sophy and Soft Head ; that is worse.” 

“ And who in thunder gave you and your brother 
such names ?” bawled Wagg. 

“ My father was a literary man, and he said that as 
he was a poor man and could not leave us money', he 
would leave us distinguished names.” 

This literary gentleman was a sexton and village 
school-teacher, who led a half-starved life, but never 
would sell his Greek tragedies. 

“ A cursed old maid gave me mine, for sole inherit- 
ance, too,” said Wagg. 

* * * * * * * 

The excessive heat and dust did not appease 
Wagg’s ill humor; but, as Head prudently devoted 
himself to a new novel he was reading (there being 
not a vacant seat he could take), there was no oc- 
casion to renew the choice amenities of their past 
dialogue. 

They were now approaching Wilmington. Lieu- 
tenant Wagg was feeling very hungry, and as he had 
exhausted almost all of his month’s pay in a farewell 
gift to Lucinda, he felt the necessity of being economic 
till next pay-day, which was yet far off. He was 
sorry he had quarreled with Sophy. 

On his part, Lieutenant Head, in the softness of his 
heart, had been thinking that it was rather hard to 
be called Scaly, and was, therefore, quite anxious to 
apologize to Wagg. He gave his irascible com- 
panion the very contrite look of a good dog who 
accepts opprobrium for the sake of love, at the very 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


223 

time that a colored gentleman opened the door and 
shouted, — 

“ Twenty min’t’s for refreshments !” And the pas- 
sengers rushed out as if the car was on fire. 

Useless hurry. An American traveler only requires 
four minutes to eat his dinner, — half a minute for 
soup, one minute and a half for fish, two minutes for 
meats and vegetables, and half a minute for apple-pie. 
Then he has laid the foundation for a life’s dyspepsia, 
to be helped with buckwheat-cakes every winter. 

'Lieutenant Wagg smiled. Hunger allays anger. 

“Ain’t you going to get out and eat something ? 
I am awful hungry. Come, don’t be mad. Let me 
treat, and then I shall think you have forgiven me,” 
said Softy, the soft-hearted. And both friends went 
out to munch in four minutes what they should have 
taken an hour to eat. 

That night they were in New York. 

The major’s room was all ready for him, and, as 
all the girls, including Lavinia and Lola, had gone to 
Saratoga, there was nothing to interfere with the 
madam in her hospitable efforts to make the major 
happy and at home. 

He, on his part, lost no time in putting a little plan 
of his into execution. By setting the madam to make 
inquiries in regard to money-matters from Sinclair, 
he soon found out a good deal more than he already 
knew. Then he immediately wrote to his old friend 
Hammerhard to give up his New England pulpit and 
come to New York; that he had a plan by which 
both could make money enough to be independent. 


224 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Hammerhard, by return of mail, answered that within 
two or three weeks he would be with him. 

*• So far, so good,” said the major to himself ; then 
aloud to Mrs. Norval, “ How long will the girls be at 
Saratoga ?” 

“ I don’t know ; a month, perhaps. As they are 
with the Sinclairs, they will do what Mrs. Sinclair 
says. Lavinia will return to Washington in Septem- 
ber, and Lola to her convent, I suppose, though 
Mattie told me that Lola said she is to graduate this 
fall. Emma and my daughters are to go to Newport 
with the Sinclairs; and as Julian is to have a two 
months’ leave, I suppose he will go with them.” 

The major nodded his head in approval, and Mrs. 
Norval was very happy. 

About two weeks after this conversation, Mr. and 
Mrs. Hammerhard arrived in New York, and an- 
nounced to their friends their intention of making the 
great metropolis their home. 

The Rev. Hammerhard and his friend the ex-Rev. 
Hackwell came out of Mrs. Norval’s sitting-room 
the morning of the third day after his reverence’s 
arrival. They had a mysterious look about them, 
but seemed pleased. 

“ She is booked now. I congratulate you on your 
second nuptials,” said Mr. Hammerhard. 

“ Thanks. But, remember, we mustn’t crow very 
loud,” the major replied; “ I am not so sure as Sinclair 
is about the news from Africa being true.” 

“ But as long as she believes it, what more need 
we ask ?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


225 


“A great deal more, Ham. But 'sufficient unto 
the day/ ” etc. And the two friends again shook 
hands, laughing a laugh they alone understood. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE RETURNED PRISONERS, AND WHAT THEY SAID. 

Mrs. Cackle had never listened when her literary 
consort read those historical books from which their 
children derived their illustrious names. She had not 
heard a word, either, about the siege of Troy and the 
especial protection accorded to the Argives by the 
blue-eyed goddess Minerva. Neither could she ever 
be guilty of approaching popery near enough to be- 
lieve in guardian angels or patron saints. No, sir; 
not she. But, as she was a good American woman, 
she believed firmly in “ Manifest Destiny,” and that 
the Lord was bound to protect the Union, even if to 
do so the affairs of the rest of the universe were to 
be laid aside for the time being. Consequently, Mrs. 
Cackle was positive that if the North only went 
“ ahead,” and didn’t stop to think or to take breath, 
it would “ all come right.” The war was the best 
thing that could have happened, for, besides setting 
the negroes free and chastising their owners, had 
it not made two of her sons distinguished Congress- 
men and the other two renowned generals? Mrs. 

K* 


226 WH0 WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Cackle was perfectly satisfied, and told her daughters 
that Lavvy Sprig was a silly thing to be crying be- 
cause so many poor fellows died in the hospitals, and 
so many returned prisoners came back mutilated and 
looking like skeletons. 

“ She is the silliest, most restless thing, this Lavvy 
Sprig, more than ever since she returned from New 
York so very sad,” said Mrs. Cackle one day to her 
daughters, as she partook of a hurried breakfast. 
“ She sent for me before I was awake this morning to 
go to visit a new batch of returned prisoners just 
come from the South. Ned White can’t go with her, 
so she wants me, for which I don’t thank her, for I 
don’t relish a trip to Baltimore and back on the same 
day. I wish she’d give up hunting for Isaac.” 

“ Is Lavvy yet in pursuit of Isaac ?” carelessly in- 
quired General Cackle, as he stepped into the break- 
fast-room and overheard his mother’s last words. 

“ Of course she is. She and Ned White go to visit 
every newly-arrived prisoner, always to inquire for 
the lost Isaac, — all to no purpose. No one knows 
whether he is dead or alive. His name is not in any 
list of prisoners.” 

The general commenced his breakfast and said no 
more, but he knew very well that his friend Gunn had 
taken good care that Isaac’s name should not be in 
any list. 

The newly-arrived sick whom Lavvy and Mrs. 
Cackle were to see that morning were “ Union pris- 
oners” who had been at the Libby or Belle-Isle since 
the beginning of the war. From the depot the two 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


227 


ladies drove directly to the hospital. The heart of 
Lavinia beat with hope and fear of what she might 
hear about her poor brother, now gone more than 
two years, and never once heard of. 

Ascertaining that the sick were doing as well as 
could be expected, and that they were all pretty com- 
fortable, accompanied by one of the hospital matrons 
and Mrs. Cackle, Lavvy went up to the “ sick-rooms” 
to commence her investigation. 

After the usual inquiries about the state of their 
health and comfort to several of the patients in the 
room, — a long one, containing forty beds, all of which 
were occupied, — Lavvy asked one of the men, who 
seemed brighter and stronger than the others, 
whether he had ever met Captain Isaac Sprig, who 
was captured at the first Bull Run. 

“ No, ma’am. I was most of my time at Belle-Isle, 
and maybe he was at the Libby.” 

“ / was at the Libby. Who is that you want to 
know about? I know all about him,” said a man, 
sitting up in great precipitation, and he was so at- 
tenuated that he looked like a skeleton rising from 
the grave. 

“ Shut up, Scrogs ; you know you are crazy,” said 
a shrill voice at the opposite side of the narrow room ; 
and a boy holding his arm in a sling sat up too, as 
if to be ready to hold Scrogs silent. 

“ No, I ain’t crazy, neither ; I only want some ice- 
cream,” said Scrogs, pleadingly. 

“ Shut up your ice-cream ; the lady wants to know 
something,” insisted the boy. “Jim Suky can tell 


228 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


you more, ma’am; he ain’t crazy, and he was at the 
Libby, too. Get up, Jim, and tell the lady if you ever 
heard of Captain Sprig.” 

A fair, light-haired boy made two or three attempts 
to rise, but he was too weak to do so, and he fell back 
on his pillow. 

Lavvy and Mrs. Cackle ran to him, saying not to 
trouble himself to rise ; that he could speak lying down. 

“ It is no trouble,” said Tom of the arm in the 
sling ; “ let him try again, and he’ll get up. I never 
get up myself until I have tumbled down two or three 
times. You see, ma’am, we are so starved that we 
ain’t got no more strength than so many sick kittens.” 
And the boy laughed, amused at their weak condition ; 
and his laugh seemed contagious, for almost all the 
poor sick wretches near his bed joined in it, particu- 
larly Scrogs, who shook with hilarity until Tom 
again, in imperious tones, cried to him, — 

“ Shut up, Scrogs ; don’t laugh so much : it will 
hurt you.” Hearing which, Scrogs became serious 
on the instant. 

“ You have Mr. Scrogs under good discipline,” said 
Mrs. Cackle to Tom of the arm in the sling. 

“ His name ain’t Scrogs, ma’am, but we call him so 
because he was so hungry that he forgot his name ; 
and when he saw some of our boys eating frogs, and 
he wanted to ask them for some, and for scraps of 
anything. to eat, he cried, ‘ Scrogs , scrogs!’ meaning 
scraps of frogs, ma’am; that’s all; but his name ain’t 
Scrogs.” 

“ What is his name, then ?” Lavvy asked. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


229 

“ We don’t know, ma’am, nor he either. What is 
your name, Scrogs?” asked Tom. 

“Scrogs Ice Cream,” answered Scrogs, with a mili- 
tary salute. 

“ You see, ma’am, he is crazy. Hunger made him 
so ; and he don’t know his name.” 

A sob arose to Lavvy’s lips. She pulled down her 
veil, and hurried with her inquiries. No one there, 
however, knew anything of Captain Sprig. They 
were very sorry they could not give the lady some 
information, but they had never heard of him. 

Seeing that she was going away so sad, to cheer 
her, the boy with the arm in the sling and authority 
over Scrogs, said, — 

“ You ought to be glad, ma’am, that we never saw 
him; for if he had been with us, he might now be 
crazy with hunger, like Scrogs, or his feet and hands 
eaten up with frost, like me and Sammy.” 

“Are your feet eaten up with frost?” asked Lavvy, 
sitting by him again. 

“ Yes, ma’am, both of them, and this one hand in 
the sling too. But Sammy Doggy has his worse 
than mine. All his toes are gone.” 

“ But why did you let the frost eat up your feet so 
badly ? Why didn’t you cover them ?” Mrs. Cackle 
asked. 

“ Because we only had a piece of a blanket, and my 
companion was dying of hunger and cold, and I gave 
him my share of the blanket, ma’am. Poor George ! 
he was so good and patient.” 

“ And what became of him ?” asked Lavvy. 


7.0 


230 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ He died, ma’am. He was too weak to be so 
badly disappointed, like. He was quite cheerful when 
we were going to Aquia Creek ; but when we got 
there and we found no rebs to change with, and no 
steamer to take us, and they brought us back to 
Belle-Isle, then George seemed to have lost all the 
little strength he had. That night he said to me, 
‘Tom, it is no use. I’ll never see the dear faces of the 
Union folks no more. I can’t stand it. This has 
gone to my heart, But if I only could see my dear 
mother and my little baby sister, and kiss them 
good-by, I wouldn’t mind it so'much. Good-night, 
old fellow. My love to the Union folks, if you ever 
get to see them.’ And he turned over the other side, 
and it was bitter cold, so I put our little blanket over 
him, for I was stronger than he, and by-and-by I 
didn’t feel the cold, and I fell asleep. Next morning, 
very early, I spoke to George, but he didn’t answer 
me ; and, as he was always so civil, I thought some- 
thing was wrong, that he didn’t speak. I moved him, 
and he was stiff. He had died in the night, ma’am, 
of hunger and cold, and because his strength gave 
out, like, ma’am, when he had hoped to go home and 
they didn’t exchange us. He had no more courage 
any more ; it seemed to him as if the Union folks 
had forgotten us, and he felt it awfully, and his 
strength gave out entirely.” 

The ladies were so affected by this simple recital 
of Tom, that for some time they wept in silence and 
were unable to speak. Presently, however, Mrs. 
Cackle asked Tom, — 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


23I 


“ And because you gave your share of your little 
blanket to your friend George your feet got frozen ?” 

“ Yes, ma’am, because it could not cover both of 
us. If I had known that poor George was dead, I 
would have taken the blanket myself, for it was no 
use to him no more, ma’am, you see ; but I thought 
he was asleep, he was so quiet ; and I felt sorry for 
him, and I covered him all I could, and my feet got 
froze up. But my hands will be all right. I ain’t as 
bad off as Sammy Doggy. He has his fingers all 
chopped off, and his toes all eaten up, gone, with the 
frost.” 

“But was there no wood for you to make a fire?” 
asked Mrs. Cackle of the man designated as Sammy 
Doggy. 

“ Very little, ma’am, and the fellows who were 
strong would take it. Sometimes we had a little 
more, when the James River floated down sticks and 
left them on the shore around the island. Then we 
gathered them up, and put them to dry to make a fire. 
But, as I was so weak, the other fellows pushed me 
off and took the sticks from me, and so I had no 
fire.” 

“ The wicked rebels, to take a few sticks from a 
poor sick man !” exclaimed Mrs. Cackle, indignant. 

“ No, ma’am, it wasn’t the rebs ; it was our own 
companions, ma’am. But we were so cold and so 
hungry that we didn’t care for nobody, and we 
quarreled for a bit of anything to eat, or a bit of wood 
to make a fire.” 

“ His hands wouldn’t have got frozen, ma’am, if he 


232 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


hadn’t held on to his dog after his hole in the ground 
caved in,” said Tom. 

“ What does he mean ?” asked the ladies, growing 
more shocked and more curious every moment. 

“ He means that I dug a hole in the ground to 
sleep, for I had no wood nor blanket ; and one night 
it rained very hard, and the hole caved in, and the 
earth held me there until next morning, and my 
hands got froze up.” 

“ Yes, but why don’t you tell the ladies that your 
hands was froze up because you wouldn’t let go your 
dead dog?” 

“ But why did you wish to keep your dead dog 
so much ? Did you love him so very dearly ?” asked 
Lavinia, thinking of her own dear poodle, abandoned 
for her country’s sake. 

Here Scrogs began to laugh immoderately, and his 
laugh again seemed contagious, and for some mo- 
ments nothing but laughing — as loud as could come 
out of such carcasses — was heard in the whole room. 
The ladies could not see the joke, and waited until 
the laugh should subside, which it did as soon as 
Tom said to the leader of it, — 

“ Shut up, Scrogs, I tell you : laughing will, hurt 
you.” 

Then Sammy answered, — 

“ No, ma’am, I didn’t love the dog, but we wanted 
to eat him.” 

“ Oh ! oh !” exclaimed the ladies. “ Whose dog 
was it? where did you catch it?” 

“ The dog belonged to a rebel officer, who came to 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


233 


see how many of us had come back from Aquia 
Creek. The "dog was running about, and I caught 
him by the hind-legs and killed him. Then I car- 
ried him to my cave, and kept him until the officer 
went away. When he was gone, we took the dog 
out and skinned him, and divided among the fellows 
of my company, and we ate it up.” 

“You ate a dog!” Mrs. Cackle ejaculated. 

“Yes, ma’am, skin, tail, ears, legs, entrails, all, all. 
And we only wished it had been a bigger dog. When 
my house, — the hole where I slept, I mean, — when it 
caved in, I had my piece of dog with me there, and 
just had time to save it, and held it in my hands, 
though my legs were buried. That is the way my 
hands got frozen.” 

“ But didn’t the rebels give you any meat ?” asked 
Mrs. Cackle. 

“Yes, ma’am, once in awhile; but we were so 
hungry that we rushed to the meat-cart when we saw 
it coming, and we took all we could, without waiting 
till they gave it to us, and so the weak ones didn’t 
get anything, and sometimes they starved to death.” 

“ But didn’t the rebels give you any other kind of 
food at all ?” again asked Mrs. Cackle. 

“ Yes, ma’am, a little. They gave us corn or flour 
sometimes, and a bit of bacon, or molasses, but not 
much of anything.” 

“ The wicked, horrid creatures !” exclaimed Mrs. C. 

“ The truth is, ma’am, that they didn’t have much 
to give, and nothing to spare. They complained that 
we were there eating them up, because we helped to 
20* 


234 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


consume the little they had, and so we were starving 
them. When I was first taken prisoner, they gave 
me some kind of bread made of oats and corn meal. 
It was very hard, and I threw mine away, and the 
reb sentinel taking care of us picked it up and began 
to eat it. I asked him how could he eat such dry 
husks, and he said to me, ‘When you have been 
longer in the Confederacy, you will be mighty glad 
to get such dry husks as these ;* and so I would, 
afterwards. They are all starving down there.” 

“ But they fight as if they ate four regular meals 
of Old Nick’s flesh every day,” said Tom. 

“ That is truly so,” said Mrs. Cackle. “ They seem 
inspired by the Evil One to destroy the best govern- 
ment on earth, the last hope of mankind.” 

And here Mrs. Cackle took occasion to deliver a 
lecture on patriotism to the sick and maimed men, 
who listened to her attentively, resting their mangled 
and frost-bitten extremities upon pillows. What a 
parody, Mrs. Cackle! You should kneel down be- 
fore those pitiful, bleeding stumps wrapped up in rags, 
for they are sacred symbols of that love of country 
you are bleating about. They speak words which 
easy patriotism cannot say, neither from the pulpit 
nor the tribune. 

So thought Lavvy, and, interrupting Mrs. Cackle’s 
effusions of comfortable patriotism, they took their 
departure, with cheering and kind words from Lavvy, 
with exhortations to vengeance from the Roman ma- 
tron Cackle. 

A long war was good for the Cackle family. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


235 


Lavinia did not wish for vengeance. She had seen 
suffering enough. Her heart only yearned for her 
lost brother. Where was he ? Was he dead ? Lavvy 
asked herself these questions a thousand times. She 
now began to think of going South to hunt up Isaac 
herself. If he was sick, she would stay to take care 
of him. If he was dead, she would bring his re- 
mains to bury them decently at home. Like sweet, 
devoted Antigone, she would go “ beyond the gates 
of Thebes” to bury the dear remains of her Polynice, 
— in the face of the wrath of Creon, who had said, 
“ Let all the traitors and rebels be devoured by vul- 
tures around the walls of Thebes.” 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

MRS. NORVAL’s MENTAL DEBUT. 

Julius Oesar Cackle had often slid down-hill, 
carrying on his sledge close to his heart the fair young 
form of Ruth Norval, and his heart had not throbbed 
any faster than it was natural it should, going up a 
steep hill, dragging a heavy sledge, and then down- 
hill at lightning speed. 

Now, however, General Cackle’s heart behaved 
more like a heart. After a ride in Central Park, in a 
most elegant turn-out, by the side of Ruth,— though 
not nearly so close as in the sledge, — it throbbed. 
And when, after the ride in the Park and down Fifth 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


236 

Avenue, there followed an exquisite dinner at the 
Norval palace, and then the opera, with its charming, 
bewitching, aristocratic bustle, its dazzling lights, and 
more dazzling toilettes, then the general’s sluggish 
heart commenced to give responsive beats, and grew 
civilized all so quickly that it began to knock at his 
stupid head and talk to it. He thought all at once that 
it was “very queer” that when he had Ruth Norval 
on his sledge he never once had had the notion of 
squeezing her, — very queer, indeed ! “ She is mighty 
fine-looking ! I suppose because it was so infernally 
cold!” muttered the son of Mars to himself, — thereby 
showing a poetical turn of mind very creditable to 
himself and illustrative of the theory that “ great 
minds will always in kindred thoughts meet,” for he 
had never read the Divina Commedia, and yet he had 
Dante’s idea of the infernal regions. 

No, there was 1 no doubting that if the general’s sus- 
ceptibilities had lain torpid in the cold North, now 
they awakened with a leap by the side of Miss Nor- 
val, in Mrs. Norval’s proscenium-box. 

Ruth saw the evident admiration of the general, 
and was pleased thereat, because they were in full 
view of the Misses McCods, the Misses Pinching- 
hams, the Misses Squeezphat, and more so of the 
pretty Mrs. Van Krout, who had the proscenium-box 
opposite, and could see the general’s “ yellow but- 
tons” so well. 

Ruth and Emma spread their costly silks (all 
bought with Lola’s money) in magnificent array, 
flanked by the general and Major Hackwell, who 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


2 37 

certainly looked very handsome in his uniform, and 
prepared themselves to stare and be stared at. 

With elegant nonchalance Ruth raised her opera- 
glass and surveyed the house, — the boxes first, of 
course. Yes, there they were, all the fashionable 
wives and daughters of the railroad kings and 
princes of the gold-room. Some of the princes 
themselves were there, and their hopeful sons, “ the 
youth of New York;” but Ruth had seen too many 
real princes of the blood, and danced with too many 
bona fide dukes and counts of aristocratic foundation, 
to care for these whom a tumble in the stocks might 
dethrone to-morrow. Still, though she affected — as 
a lady who has traveled abroad should — a contempt 
for “ Shoddy ,” she was gratified to see that their 
glasses were directed constantly to her box. She 
was sure the Norvals were making an impression. 

“ This is a mighty pretty sight, this opera-house, 
Miss Ruth. I am sorry Miss Mattie and brother 
Beau didn’t come,” said the general. 

“ Yes, I like the opera better than those crowded 
receptions, but Mattie likes dancing, and prefers the 
balls. I believe she means to go to three to-night.” 

And Ruth now began to point out to the general 
the notabilities of fashionable society, the major and 
Emma occasionally adding their observations, whilst 
back of them silently sat Julian and Mrs. Norval, 
who certainly had no wish to be there. Julian was 
too annoyed and Mrs. Norval too much out of her 
sphere to enjoy that elegant din. But that force of 
circumstances which whirls us poor mortals like chips 


238 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


round a whirlpool, had brought them there, — the 
madam for the first time. 

Let it not be supposed for one moment that she 
had lost her old horror of the theatre which had 
made her deplore Isaac’s penchant for it. No, as yet 
she would not have gone, unless the major positively 
desired it, to see a play spoken. But she could effect 
a compromise with her relenting conscience by going 
to hear it sung , particularly as it would be in a lan- 
guage she did not understand, and she would not 
know what they said. That seemed to her not so 
wicked, only very silly. And this idea grew on her 
mind as she sat there listening to what to her seemed 
a Chinese din, and seeing those people singing to each 
other that they were happy, or sad, or angry, or sick, 
or well, until she was ready to burst out laughing. 
But no one had ever seen her laugh aloud. She did 
not like to laugh. Still, those people were too much 
for her gravity, and when Adalgisa and Norma sang 
their grand duo and separated in despair, Mrs. Nor- 
val said, laughing quite loud, — 

“ What is the matter ? I thought they were going 
to fight ; but I suppose some one is sick and they 
have -run for the doctor.” 

“Oh, mother, hush ! for gracious’ sake!” said Ruth, 
afraid that she would be heard. 

But Mrs. Norval did not stop there. After awhile 
she asked, — 

“ Why did she beat that gong? — for dinner?” 

“Oh, ma! it is the sacred shield. She is calling her 
warriors to drive off the Romans,” said Ruth, in despair. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


239 


But Hackwell was amused at her remarks, and 
this made her so happy that she almost felt tempted 
to leap upon the stage and begin to sing her own 
love, as being exactly similar to that of Norma, only 
greater, truer, than any ever sung or wept for by 
any matron before or after Norma. 

It was very fortunate that the “ leg opera” had not 
yet blossomed on the New York stage, as it lately 
has, else his ex-reverence might have been tempted to 
take the madam there, just to test the strength of 
his power and to measure the length of his tether, — 
for he was fond of experimenting. The madam then, 
though she would never utter the word “ leg” would 
have seen five hundred bare ones, in entangling evolu- 
tions, like so many polypi let loose to crawl on the 
stage, cuttle-fish dangling merrily their tentacula, with 
a sure instinct of fastening on poor, gaping oysters, 
which would be sucked dry. But the advent of the 
yellow-haired nymphs of the “ eighty-leg opera” was 
yet retarded, and Mrs. Norval with the rest of the 
community was spared from that improvement on the 
drama. Therefore I cannot tell what would have 
been her sentiments on seeing those half-nude females 
tossing their limbs so promiscuously, if she had ob- 
served that they pleased her adored John. I fear she 
would have been willing to pirouette too. 

Julian could certainly appreciate music much bet- 
ter than his mother, but his mind was too anxiously 
preoccupied to enjoy anything. 

He had arrived from the army of the Potomac that 
morning very unexpectedly, and had requested his 


240 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT ? 


mother to see him in her room alone. But the major 
overheard him, and as he arose from the breakfast 
table to go to his office down-town, he whispered to 
her, “ Don’t promise anything to Julian until you 
consult with me.” 

To be on the safe side, Mrs. Norval had made 
several excuses to Julian to put off the interview until 
the next day. They were going to have a dinner-party 
that day, and she had ever so many things to attend 
to; wouldn’t it be the same to-morrow? Julian sighed 
and said, “ Very well.” He could afford to wait a day, 
considering that he had made up his mind what to 
do. So he said no more, and joined the dinner- 
party, rode in the Park, and went to the opera, per- 
fectly indifferent as to how he spent the intervening 
hours. 

After the opera they took an ice at Delmonico’s, 
and then rode home, Mrs. Norval and her husband in 
her cozy little coupe, and the young people in the 
large carriage. At the door the general bade them 
good-night, and as he drove to his hotel in the soft- 
cushioned carriage of the Norvals, hi 5 thoughts re- 
verted again to the hard old sledge, and he sighed, 
thinking he would “ like mighty well” to have Ruth 
now as close as then to his heart. 

That young lady, meantime, ran up to her room 
and told her maid to undress her. Miss Ruth could 
not undress herself now. 

“ Did Miss Mattie’s dress fit her well ?” asked Miss 
Ruth when she was undressed, all but her “ rats and 
mice” to come off 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


24I 


“ Beautifully,” answered Mina, the maid, com- 
mencing to take dozens and scores of hair-pins from 
chignon and rats. “ Mademoiselle looked superbe, 
com me une veritable princesse; and Monsieur Cack’ 
was charmant, so pleased, so passionne, il est pro- 
fondement epris de Mademoiselle Matti.” 

“ Never mind that ; describe her dress, for I did not 
see even the stuff before it was made up.” 

“ It is a white satin, with silver fringe, and above 
it a narrow silver galloon for a heading; the skirt full 
and with a long trail ; over it a tunic of pale-green 
gauze, trimmed also with silver galloon and fringe ; 
under the fringe is a deep d’Alengon flounce.” 

“That is too much. Mattie must have looked 
loaded ; I am sure she did.” 

“ No, miss, she looked royal, — magnificent. The 
sleeves and corsage are also trimmed with point 
d’Alengon to match, the ends of the Alengon fichu 
falling over a large Alengon sash, in the back, over 
the green tunic. It is lovely !” 

“ Too much stuff; too loaded,” said Ruth, jumping 
into bed. Since she became a fashionable lady she 
had no time to say her prayers ; she was too tired, — 
too busy. 

As soon as she put her head on her pillow she 
began to plan several dresses which would eclipse 
those of Mattie. From that her thoughts naturally 
went to the opera and to General Cackle, and ran in 
this manner : 

“ Who would have thought that Ciss Cackle could 
ever look so well ? Wonderful melamorphosers are 


L 


21 


242 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


those yellow buttons; but more yet, money! Yes, 
money is everything. I wonder if the Cackles have 
made as much money as it is said ? They ought to, 
with so many fat government contracts at their dis- 
posal. He wouldn’t be a bad catch, if they have 
money besides the stars in the straps.” And Ruth 
laughed to find herself thinking of Julius Cackle as 
a catch, — he who used to plow with her Uncle 
Abraham and drive their wagons to market full of 
pigs, or poultry, or apples, or hay, or vegetables. But 
this thought Ruth never uttered even to the pillow; 
she drove it off quickly, and tried to think of the 
opera, and the sensation they had made, to judge by 
the number of glasses directed to their box. These 
thoughts would again take her to the general, and in 
spite of herself to those old times of which he too 
had thought, when they used to slide down-hill to- 
gether and walk up arm-in-arm. 

“Who can fall in love freezing?” exclaimed she, 
aloud, “ and with such clothes as we wore ? I remem- 
ber I used to look like a fright in my Solferino hood 
which Aunt Lavvy knitted for me, and my nose about 
the same shade. Poor aunty! she too had a Sol- 
ferino hood, and her nose was purple. Ugh ! I hate 
poverty !” 

And she began to think that they must be very 
rich, because their mother never objected to their 
buying anything, and she used to be so very economi- 
cal. “Yes, papa must have left heaps of money.” 
And, lulled by this delicious thought, she fell asleep. 




WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


243 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

IN WHICH THE MAJOR, LIKE YORICK, WAS A FELLOW 
OF INFINITE HUMOR. 

“ Ring for me as soon as you are ready,” Major 
Hackwell said to Mrs. Norval as they alighted from 
their coupe on their return from the opera. 

Mrs. Norval had, as usual, obeyed, and rang a little 
silver bell which was on the centre-table of her bed- 
room. A minute after, from the closet next to Mrs. 
Norval’s bed, emerged the handsome major in his costly 
dressing-gown and slippers, smoking a most expensive 
meerschaum, and sat in an arm-chair opposite to a 
similar one occupied by Mrs. Normal. This lady had 
changed more within the last five years than any 
other member of her metamorphosed family. She had 
grown younger and improved in appearance rapidly 
since her arrival in New York. She dressed now at 
the height of the fashion, as John admired finely- 
dressed women, but she always dressed in dark, rich 
silks, and in a sort of dignified style which suited her 
very well. Every day her hair was crimped, per- 
fumed, and curled by a hairdresser. Her robes-de - 
chambre , even, were most costly. No more ugly 
wrappers now, made of old merinos and faded de- 
laines, against which < the doctor had protested in 
vain. John liked to see her well dressed in her bed- 


244 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


room ; so she wore rich peignoirs of costly silks and 
velvets for the winter, and of batistes for the summer. 
Mrs. Norval, with all this magnificence, and though 
sure that no one suspected her clandestine marriage, 
still had a sad look about her face. But even this 
sad look capricious fate turned for her to good ac- 
count, causing it to enhance the respectful sympathy 
which everybody felt it to be her due; because, society 
said in its wisdom, “ How is it possible for her to 
reconcile herself to the horrible fate of her husband, 
who perhaps was not only murdered but eaten by the 
barbarians of Africa ? It was so noble in her not to 
wear mourning, to prove that the brave soul will cling 
to hope to the last.” There was always a respectful 
murmur of approval when Mrs. Norval entered her 
spacious drawing-rooms, her long trail sweeping 
slowly after her majestic form. Even Hack almost 
admired her. 

Now Mrs. Norval sat waiting to hear what John 
had to say. He refilled his pipe, and said, — 

“ I think it is very silly to postpone the marriage 
between Em and Julian.” 

“I have done my best, John dear, but he says he 
promised to his father not to marry, and that he is 
sure that his father is not — not dead.” 

“ And he is a damned fool for thinking so.” • 

“ That may be ; but you know, my darling, that I 
cannot force the boy. He says that Emma did not 
accept him when he offered himself ; that she rejected 
him, and he has never renewed his offer, and Emma 
can’t hold him to it after rejecting him ; that he will 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


245 

leave it to Emma herself to say whether or not this is 
the true state of the case.” 

“ Yes, the puppy, because he knows that Em is 
too proud to hold him to a promise he wants to 
break. But I, as her brother and protector, will see 
that the rascal don’t trifle with her. He was hardly 
civil to her this evening, and scarcely spoke to her 
at the opera. But I tell you what, madam, my 
patience might give out, and you might regret it if 
it does.” 

“ But what can I do ? Only tell me what I must 
do, and you know I shall obey you. You told me to 
send Lola back after they came from Fortress Monroe, 
and I did ; but the doctor said she needed change of 
air, and I was obliged to let her go with the girls to 
those watering-places.” 

“Yes, and Julian was with her.” 

“ Only a little while. After the battle of Gettys- 
burg, you know, Julian had a relapse, and did not 
come for five weeks; then, when he came, I sent 
Lola off.” 

“ They were together nearly a month.” 

“ That, of course, was unavoidable ; they were with 
Mrs. Sinclair, and I couldn’t help it.” 

“ No, you can’t help anything ; but I will and shall. 
If Julian don’t settle this matter now, I will take Em 
to Europe, and you and I, madam, must part, for a 
long time, or perhaps forever, as I shall not return 
while Em has a particle of this foolish love for your 
false-hearted son ; and I fear she is like her brother, 
she knows how to love constantly and deeply, but not 


246 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

how to forget !” said he, combining in his tone and 
manner the eloquence of the pulpit and the forum. 

Mrs.Norval — would the reader believe it? — clapped 
her hands to her face in the most feminine manner, 
as Lavinia, or Mrs. Cackle, or any other weak crea- 
ture of the subservient order of females would have 
done, — clapped her hands, as if ashamed of having 
become so womanly, and began to cry. 

The major smiled, pleased, and, drawing his chair 
closer to hers, said, caressingly, — 

“ There, there ! don’t cry, Jenny ! I didn’t mean to 
say anything harsh.” And he put his arm around 
the stately form of his wife. 

She felt a thrill through her entire frame, just as 
might have felt one of those creatures — whom she so 
abhorred — who go to parties in low necks'and short 
sleeves, and go to theatres, and, in their wild chase 
after worldly pleasures, do court such thrills. She, a 
strict hater of popery, a pious, proper churchwoman, 
felt just the same. And who was the man who had 
the power thus to thrill her whole being and set her 
heart throbbing in such unmatronly, unpresbyterian 
tumult? No other than her spiritual adviser, the 
man trusted by their congregation and held in rever- 
ence. She was not shocked at this, at him, or her- 
self; he had educated her mind in such artistic gradu- 
ations, that she liked, she enjoyed, this antithetical 
position with her former self. She put her arm around 
his neck. 

“ Oh, John ! you have such power over me !” sighed 
the mature inamorata. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


24 7 


“ Why shouldn’t I ? Who has a better right than 
your husband ?” answered the ex-divine, kissing her 
with a mock passion that almost made him burst out 
laughing at himself. 

Was it Hackwell alone who had caused this change 
in the rigid pink of blue propriety, or had external 
influences — money — helped him ? If so, it would 
have been better, perhaps, that those heavy boxes 
and that little black girl had never come, and that 
the magnificent palace in Fifth Avenue had never been 
built, and that Mrs. Norval’s heart had never thawed. 
But she did not think so: she loved this new state 
of being. She had so far degenerated that she re- 
garded her youth as misspent, her life a blank, until 
she loved Hackwell, until she was past forty. Poor 
woman ! to have been a chrysalis all her days ! Who 
would not excuse this avalanche of the snows of forty 
years ? 

And viewing the matter thus, — and that is the way 
in which Hackwell taught her to view it, — he had 
been her Prometheus, — her creator. 

“ Such is woman !” moralized Hack, with his head 
resting on her shoulder. “ There is more latent pas- 
sion in one of those women who live with frozen-up 
souls half of their lives, than in those impetuous, sus- 
ceptible children of feeling who have burnt their 
hearts to a cinder before they are thirty-five.” 

And Mrs. Norval, instead of being shocked as she 
would have been last year, loved to hear her John 
comment upon the strength, depth, and ardor of her 
passion for him, just as much as she had loved to 


248 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

see him work himself up into a holy frenzy inveigh- 
ing against parallel cases. She rejoiced that she had 
kept this volcano in her heart, closely covered over 
with layer upon layer of snow, which the devotion, 
the generosity, and the kindness of the doctor had 
failed to melt, but which her “ Ithuriel” had charmed 
away in one instant ! 

“ I must go,” said Hackwell, starting up, kissing 
the hand he was holding in his. “ I must send my 
letters.” 

“ Don’t, don’t go,” said she, holding his arm; 
“ please don’t ! It is so sweet to sit by you and let 
you lean your head on my shoulder while you talk 
to me. Sit down by me ! Please !” 

“But, my darling, those letters are urgent, and 
some are about your affairs. Remember, I am your 
lawyer down-town, as well as your husband in this 
room.” 

“ Yes, you are mine, my own in every respect, — my 
lawyer, my lawgiver, my lord, my all. If I were like 
some of those irreverent women with foreign loose 
notions, I would say, my God on this earth. Come 
to me; your caresses take away my strength. I 
can’t hold you by force.” 

Hackwell knelt on one knee on the footstool be- 
fore her chair, and she clasped her arms around his 
neck. “ Now is my chance,” thought he; and, again 
leaning his head on her shoulder, he said, — 

“ How cruel it would be to separate from you !” 

“ Don’t you ever say the word separation to me. I 
would rather die than live without you.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


249 


t “ And yet, my own dearest, what is the alterna- 
tive ? I certainly cannot let my sister remain here, 
jilted by Julian, and you say he won’t marry her.” 

“ But he will. He must, he shall ! I can sym- 
pathize with Em, for I know it would kill me if you 
were to slight me or be indifferent to me. I shall 
see him to-morrow, and will give him a piece of my 
mind. He shall decide to-morrow. I refused to 
have any talk with him because you told me not to. 
But we will settle matters to-morrow, be sure of 
that.” 

“ Good !” thought Hack : “ that point is settled. 
Now for the next.” He changed his position from 
resting on the left knee to rest on the right, so as to 
be more comfortable, and at the most suitable times 
press his wife to his heart. She, meanwhile, played 
with his curly hair, glossy, brown, without a single 
white line in it. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

JULIAN CARRIES THE WAR INTO AFRICA. 

“ You are so good and so generous,” said the major, 
with his elbows on the arms of the madam’s chair. 
“ Your heart is bigger than this house. You are so 
good to my little orphaned sister. I don’t know how 
I can ever pay you for your kindness.” 

L* 


250 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ I only ask your love,” softly whispered the meta- 
morphosed matron, kissing him. 

“ And that you have fully and truly as ever man 
gave to woman. Good-night, dearest ; I shall see 
you to-morrow. It is late. You go to sleep, and I 
to my unpleasant task.” 

“ What task is it ? Why can’t you put off your 
letters until to-morrow?” said she, retaining him 
closer. 

“ I cannot tell you. Don’t ask me.” 

“ Why not ? I will ask. I shall know. Tell me.’’ 

“ Well, if you must and shall. But, — really I don’t 
like to. Well, it is this: that I have lost money in a 
foolish speculation, and had to borrow, thinking I 
would soon recover my losses; but I didn’t, and now 
I have to write to Chicago to sell at a great sacrifice 
some town lots I bought there some time ago, to 
meet my notes, which will be due in two or three 
days. There ! you have it now, you inquisitive dar- 
ling. Go to sleep. Good-night!” And he gave her a 
most emphatic unparsonlike kiss, rising as if to leave 
her. 

“But why sacrifice your town lots? Haven’t I 
money enough in bank to meet your notes?” 

“ I deposited to your credit sixty thousand dollars 
yesterday,” replied he, smiling. 

“ Well, will not that be sufficient ?” 

“ You are right royal, but, I assure you, I don’t like 
to use so much of your money.” 

“ Is not everything I have, myself included, yours, 
and yours only ?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


251 


Hack was a good comedian, so he was properly 
overcome; and after all this natural emotion had sub- 
sided, the madam signed an order on her bankers to 
deliver to him twenty-five thousand dollars. 

He would have put double the amount if he had 
dared, considering that she never looked at the fig- 
ures (and she used to count the eggs that the doctor 
and children ate !), but he was afraid of arousing Mr. 
Sinclair’s suspicions. 

“ Now you will not have to sell your Chicago lots 
or to sit up working all night,” said she, lovingly. 

“ No, my precious! Thanks to you, my angel!” 

Next morning, when the major entered his office, 
Mr. Hammerhard — who also had given up pulpit- 
preaching and only gave lectures on miscellaneous 
topics — was there waiting for him, and saluted him 
by saying,— 

“ What news have you ? You look happy.” 

“ By George, Ham, what a woman she is ! Whew ! 
Don’t you know that that woman almost frightens 
me ? — and I ain’t easily frightened,” added he, with 
a wink, — “ she loves me so !” 

“ Who would have supposed such a Vesuvius cov- 
ered over with New England snows, eh ? A Yankee 
Popocatepetl !” said the Rev. Hammerhard, rubbing 
his hands gleefully. “ Tell us all about it; it must be 
rich sport!” 

“ Tell you! Bah! As if her intensity could be 
described ! Why, she is a Clytemnestra, a Medea, a 
Sappho! She is so earnest, and her love for me so 
fervid, that she almost makes me forget that she is 


252 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


thirteen years my senior, and compels me to love her ; 
yes, just kind of sucks me into her furious love mael- 
strom. Whew !” 

“ Take care, Hack; love is contagious.” 

By Jove, I should think it was ! If those superb 
eyes of Lola were not here maddening me,” said 
Hack, striking his forehead, — “ if I did not think of 
that girl night and day, I believe the old woman 
would succeed in kindling me with her conflagra- 
tion ; for I don’t deny I am combustible.” 

“ Look out ! Remember the fate of Pliny for going 
too near Vesuvius. Don’t go to sleep within reach 
of an eruption. The doctor might pop out some 
bright morning before you are out of bed. I tell 
you, whilst she is in that Clytemnestra mood you de- 
scribe, make haste to feather our nests ; you have no 
time to lose.” 

“ I know that. Did you burn all those letters ? 
If the doctor should pop in, he must believe his let- 
ters never reached New York. I am glad that the 
old lady really believes him dead, and so does Sin- 
clair, — he hasn’t the slightest doubt. He is shocked 
because the Norval girls go to balls and theatres and 
don’t wear mourning. I am glad he is so firmly con- 
vinced. He will be a good collateral evidence. Still, 
you had better bring me those letters. I, being the 
most interested, will burn them myself.” 

“ I would have burnt them had you not told me 
you wanted to keep them as trump-cards in our game 
with the madam.” 

“ Yes, but I see now that her own volcanic love is 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


253 


Sufficient for all our purpose, and those letters might 
be used against us. I am always afraid of black-and- 
white evidence. I’ll give you five thousand dollars 
if you bring them to me.” 

“ Ah, I see you have been sweet to the old woman, 
and she put you in fresh funds ! How much did she 
give you this time ?” 

“ Twenty-five thousand , — as a loan .” 

‘ Which you will pay with interest , of course. And 
you only give me five out of twenty-five !” 

“ Look here, Ham, don’t be unreasonable. I fear 
we sha’n’t get hold of Julian’s money, for he don’t 
want to marry Em. I’ll try to make him pay some- 
thing if I can, but that is uncertain ; and if the doctor 
should be alive, you know, this most charming major 
might have to bolt. So he had better send a little 
money across the Atlantic.” 

Whilst the two worthy reverends carried on this 
edifying conversation, Mrs. Norval had descended to 
the breakfast-room to have the anticipated talk with 
Julian, who was quietly employed in reading the 
Herald , like a good American citizen. Mrs. Norval 
could not repress a shudder of indefinable terror 
whenever she saw Julian reading the newspapers. 
She believed her husband dead, and yet she had an 
instinctive dread that, at some unexpected moment, 
there might be something in the papers about Lola’s 
friends looking for her, or about her husband not 
being dead. And this highly proper, rigid stickler 
for decorum and the Presbyterian. Church, derived a 
new incentive and zest in spending Lola’s money, 


22 


254 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


and her love for Hackwell grew in intensity as she 
contemplated these two possibilities. 

“ Put down your paper : you said you wanted to 
have a talk with me, and I } too, want to have a very 
plain one with you,” said she ; and Julian obeyed, and 
looked at his mother, waiting for her to speak. Was 
it her conscience, or was it Julian’s resemblance to 
his father, that troubled her ? Her embarrassment 
lasted only until her idol’s image arose before her : 
Hack’s last terrible words were yet in her ears: he 
“ would go !” 

“ I hope what you want to tell me is, that you have 
resolved to obey the dictates of honor, and stop this 
trifling with Emma.” 

“ I never have trifled with Emma, and never dis- 
obeyed the dictates of honor, mother. I wish you 
would cease accusing me of acting dishonorably to- 
wards Emma. I am sure she does not say or think 
so herself, and she cannot.” 

“ Emma is not a girl that says much, and she never 
complains ; but she suffers the more for being so 
silent.” 

“ All I can say is, that I regret from my soul that 
my boyish foolishness should have caused her any 
pain.” 

“ That is a very poor excuse, and very mean repa- 
ration. I do not see how you can find it in your heart 
to ruin a girl’s happiness for life, and not offer her the 
only reparation you can.” 

“ What ! to marry her ?” 

“ Certainly.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


255 


“ That is absurd.” 

“And why so, sir?” 

“ Because I don’t love her. I think I have told 
you that plainly enough.” 

“Yes, I am sorry that my son is dishonorable 
enough to say so in my presence.” 

“ Look here, mother,” said Julian, standing up, “ I 
did not come all the way from camp to talk about 
Emma, or be abused on her account, and it is best 
that we omit her in our conversation. I came to 
speak about Lola, not Emma.” 

“I thought so. Your insolence is unbearable,” 
said Mrs. Norval, trembling with rage. “ I suppose 
you came to ask my consent to your marriage with 
the mongrel.” 

“ Oh, no,” said Julian, smiling, “ considering that I 
am not able to obtain hers, and that is the one to be 
obtained first.” 

Mrs. Norval was so angry that she could not speak. 
Julian continued : 

“ What I wish to say, and what brought me here, 
is, that as you almost drove Lola away to the con- 
vent when the dear child was not fit yet to recom- 
mence her studies, I think that now that she has 
graduated you ought to write a kind letter asking 
her, of course, to come home.” 

“ Never, unless you pledge yourself to marry 
Emma.” 

Julian laughed aloud, and continued, as if he had 
not heard his mother’s interruption : 

“ Write to her to come immediately, for there is no 


256 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT ? 

excuse for her remaining in the convent, she being no 
longer a scholar; and to remain there she would 
have to disclose to the nuns that you don’t want her 
here.” 

“ Let her disclose it, then ; I don’t care.” 

“Yes, you doj for the only excuse you have for 
spending Lola’s money so freely is the supposition 
that this is her home.” 

“You are positively offensive. I do not wish to 
hear any more.” 

“ But you must, mother, you must hear and think ; 
you must know that Lola, though the Norvals flourish 
with her money, has no home to go to. And listen 
to me : if you do not call her here immediately , and 
most kindly and most courteously, I will go there 
and marry her immediately ; marry her!” 

“ This is too insolent, and I will not listen to it,” 
said Mrs. Norval, rising, though scarcely able to 
stand up, trembling with rage. 

“Very well, mother; do not listen; but you will be 
sorry if you do not. If Lola had wished it, I would 
have married her before coming here, but she would 
not. She believes, of course, that my father will 
return, and wishes his consent. But if the poor child 
finds herself homeless, she then cannot have any 
reasonable objection to marry, and have her own 
home. I tell you frankly that your opposition to 
her coming is just what /want; but I pledged to her 
my word of honor, — and I do have honor, mother, 
though you say I have not, — I pledged her my word 
that I would first see you and ask whether you had any 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


25 7 


objection to her coming here, — to her house. If you 
refuse to have her here, then she promised she would 
consider whether she will marry me or not. That is 
what I came to tell you. Now you can do what you 
deem proper.” 

“ If that is not a clear case of ‘your purse or your 
life/ there never was one. She is a good Mexican, 
surely, and knows how to put the dagger to the 
throat,” said Mrs. Norval, with a hoarse laugh, sitting 
down again. 

“Pshaw!” ejaculated Julian, taking his cap and 
walking towards the door. “ In this instance the 
simile is bad, for we have appropriated the purse, not 
she.” 

“ Anything else you would like to call me, besides 
a thief?” 

“ Oh, mother, this is too painful ! I do not wish to 
be disrespectful to you, but I will most certainly pro- 
tect Lola. She is not only the woman I love, but she 
was put under my care by my father. I have said 
all I have to say. About one o’clock I shall return 
for your answer. If kind, I shall telegraph to 
her to get ready to come ; but if you insist on deny- 
ing her the shelter of her own roof, then I shall go 
and beg and beg until she consents to be my 
wife.” And Julian walked out without waiting for 
a reply. 

No sooner was he out of the house than Mrs. Nor- 
val rang and ordered her coupe. About an hour 
after, she was driving down Broadway to Major Hack- 
well’s office. On arriving there, she sent for that 
22* 


258 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

charming personage, who was still discussing her and 
a meerschaum with Hammerhard. 

The major came to the coupe rather hurriedly and 
not a little surprised, but as soon as he saw her face 
he felt reassured. She was angry, but not frightened. 
It was all right. No tidings from the doctor. All 
right. He got into the coupe and sat by her, and she 
commenced to repeat her conversation with Julian, 
watching his face closely. He felt she was watching 
him, and was provoked with himself, because he knew 
he had betrayed more emotion than he could well 
explain away. 

“ You turn red and then pale,” said she. “Does 
Lola’s coming affect you so much ?” 

“ Lola’s coming ? She is not coming, is she ? Poor 
Emma !” And here he closed his fists and set his 
teeth, as if in a terrible rage. “ This is too mon- 
strous ! I really am at a loss what to advise you. It 
is evident that Julian wants to act like a villain, and 
will only be too glad of the pretext to outrage Em 
to the degree of going off to marry the other.” 

“He said that, very clearly.” 

“ But, dearest, that must not be. It will almost kill 
Em. He must at least give her the privilege of re- 
fusing him.” 

Mrs. Norval shook her head. 

“ Then I must take Em away.” 

“ I thought you promised me you would never say 
that again ?” 

“ But what can I do ? I leave it to you.” 

“ I suppose we cannot help letting Lola come. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


259 


(How I do hate her!) Better that than to allow Ju- 
lian to marry her.” 

“Yes, I suppose so. And yet ” 

“ And yet what ?” 

“ T think you once felt a kind of jealous feeling for 
her, and your peace of mind is dearer to me than any- 
thing. Could we not manage it somehow to keep 
her away without the danger of Julian running his 
head against a stone wall ? Think ! can we send her 
somewhere ?” 

“ No, nowhere, without having to give some reason. 
As for my being jealous of such a little mongrel, you 
need not fear that. I hope I have too much self-re- 
spect to place myself so low as that.” The major 
stooped to kiss her hand and hide his broad smile. 
He was too amused and too pleased to keep his 
gravity. 

After some further conversation, they agreed that 
it would be wiser to capitulate with Julian and write 
immediately for Lola; the major adding, “And we 
must try to make it appear that we are glad to see 
her. She must never have a pretext to run up to 
Julian with complaints.” 

The madam looked sober, but assented, and the 
worthy pair separated, — she to write to Lola, he to 
say to Hammerhard “ Ham, you could knock me 
down with a feather ! By Jove ! she is coming !” and 
let himself down on a chair. 

Yes, she came. Julian saw her politely received in 
her house before he returned to camp. 

Mattie was an ally of theirs, Ruth a neutral power, 


2 6o WHO WOULD have thought it? 


acting occasionally as spy, and the madam, flanked 
by Hack and Em, was at present in statu quo . So 
Julian bade them good-by. 


CHAPTER XL. 

THE MAJOR’S STAFF. 

Sophocles Head was certainly a very nice young 
man, and Mr. Skroo had found him as useful as his 
friend Wagg had proved him to be patient and for- 
bearing. Mr. Skroo did not care for the drama, but 
he cared very much for a game of poker. Mrs. 
Skroo was inclined to be fashionable, and, as the 
doors of the upper ten were locked and bolted for 
her, she took nightly consolation by going to the 
theatre. Mr. Skroo had always free tickets to the 
theatres, and, considering gentle Sophy as good an 
escort for his wife as her grandmother would have 
been, he gave him almost daily invitations to accom- 
pany Mrs. Skroo and her sister to the theatre, much to 
the chagrin of Wagg, who, not being good, was not 
so favored ; which goes to prove that virtue is once 
in a while rewarded in this world. Sophy, therefore, 
was having quite as good a time as he had anticipated 
in that new paradise called New York: going dead- 
head to all the theatres whilst Mr. Skroo played 
poker. 

But the favorite amusement of Sophy was his ride 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 2 6l 

from their office, down by the Bowling-Green, up to 
Central Park. You should have seen how grace- 
fully he sat his gray horse, “ Beau Cackle” (so called 
in honor of the distinguished statesman to whom 
Sophy owed his advancement in the military career) ; 
and Beau pranced and went sideways like a crab, or 
stood on his hind legs like a circus-bear waltzing, 
pawing the air for nearly a minute, taking nearly a 
half-hour to go the length of three blocks, dancing 
as he went, with Sophy sitting in the saddle with an 
arm akimbo, to show the girls what a good rider he 
was, not to lose his graceful poise whilst Beau danced 
his hornpipes on the pavement. Thus they went up 
Broadway — starting from the Bowling-Green about 
three, to reach the Park by five — every afternoon. 
On reaching Fourteenth Street, Sophy turned to the 
left, following Fourteenth Street until he arrived at 
Fifth Avenue. Here, right opposite Delmonico’s, 
Beau performed a few extra pirouettes , then turned the 
corner and went up Fifth Avenue. On reaching 
Twenty-third Street, opposite the Fifth Avenue Hotel, 
again Beau acted as if madly bitten by the tarantula, 
and must dance or perish, Sophy quietly sitting — “ still 
sitting” — in the saddle, never moving. From Twenty- 
third Street they went along Madison Square up Fifth 
Avenue, quietly enough, until they arrived in front of 
Mrs. Norval’s palatial mansion. Here again Beau 
seemed seized with a frenzy for dancing, and hopped 
about as if the ground was hot, hotter than anywhere 
else, and fifty tarantulas had stung him ! When his 
hoofs resounded on the pavement, a window-sash was 


262 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


thrown up in the second floor, front, and a fine-look- 
ing girl, with an exquisite head-dress, always appeared 
at the window and smiled sweetly on gentle Sophy, 
making his heart beat a regular tattoo, and dance 
more furiously than Beau. Sophy was sure he had 
captivated one of the rich Misses Norval, and his 
enthusiasm for his Dulcinea had reached such a 
pitch that he had on various occasions determined to 
ask the major to present him to the family. But he 
knew that Mr. Skroo had several times more than 
hinted the same request in behalf of his wife, yet the 
major would never take the hint. An introduction, 
then, in the modern conventionalism, was out of the 
question, and Sophy was strongly tempted to take his 
guitar and go to her window — a large bay-window — 
and, like a “ good knight of old,” sing his lone dirge 
to her. “ But the neighbors might laugh,” said gentle 
Sophy, sighing; and then he would tune his guitar 
and sit' in front of his stove, — up-stairs in his room 
above the office, in which he lived for reasons of 
economy, — to sing to the stove his love-ditty, and 
appease the wild throbbings of his docile heart. He 
imagined she listened to him, and he endeavored to 
give all possible emphasis to his broken French and 
fragmentary Italian. In four different languages 
Sophy sang his love to the stove, and as the stove 
listened attentively, not laughing or tittering, he felt 
much encouraged, and sure he was progressing in 
the languages. 

Thus mild Sophy consoled himself for the hope- 
lessness of his love and the bullying of Wagg. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 263 

It was established by the major as one of the rules 
of the office, that the two lieutenants should take 
turns, and not leave the office at night at the same 
time. One of the two had to stay alternately, keep- 
ing two clerks and two orderlies with them, as there 
was a great deal of government property in the 
building which might be stolen, and for which he was 
responsible. 

When Sophy’s turn to remain at the office came, 
he stayed at home, and sang in broken French, 
bruised Italian, and maltreated Spanish to the stove 
(the sole confidant and impersonation of his love), 
and he never saw Wagg’s face. But when the turn 
of this latter gentleman arrived, then many an even- 
ing Sophy stayed to keep him company, and Wagg 
rewarded his amiability by teaching him to grunt 
like a pig, or bray like a donkey, or neigh like a 
horse, or imitate any other animal, for Mr. Wagg 
excelled in the gift of mimicking animals as well as 
people. 

Sophy had, on one or two occasions, remained 
with his friend Wagg for the double purpose of 
guarding the government property and the person 
of Wagg himself, who had been “ rather wild lately,” 
— as mild Sophy mildly expressed it. In consequence 
of this wildness, Wagg had a touch of wild fancies, 
— called by some people “ delirium tremens.” 

Wagg did not see rats or mice (though any sober 
man might, as Sophy, only drunk with love, could 
hear them running about when he sang in Italian) ; 
Wagg was not so bad a case as that. He only 


264 WH0 WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

fancied himself excessively tall, which was natural to 
the ambitious Wagg, and then microscopically small, 
which was not natural. 

“ Sophy ! I say. I couldn’t go through that door 
if I was to double in two,” said Wagg, one night, 
when he had his wild fancies, sitting up in bed, by 
the side of which Sophy sat watching him. “ I’ll be 
damned if I could, now ! And what the devil am I 
to do to-morrow? How shall I get out of this 
hole?” 

“ We’ll manage it for you. Go to sleep now, 
that is a good boy,” said Head, soothingly. 

Wagg was not convinced, but he lay down, to 
start up again with some other idea, ridiculous and 
painful to hear. He thus talked and laughed all 
night. Towards morning, after a short doze, he ex- 
claimed, looking at Sophy, frightened, — 

“ What is the matter now ? What the devil have 
you done with me ? I am so little I can’t find my- 
self. My ! haven’t I dwindled, though ? I am going, 
and no mistake ; passing away, like my month’s pay. 
Sit there and write, quick. Are you ready ? First, 
I must say good-by to Lucinda. Commence, ‘ Dar- 
ling Lucinda.’ Have you written that?” 

“Yes. What next?” said Head, humoring him. 

“ Say, ‘ I am dying, Egypt, dying.’ ” 

“She’ll think you are alluding to her African 
origin, and she won’t like that.” 

“ Yes, she will like it; and tell her I leave her my 
horse, and my dog, and ‘ the sword of Bunker Hill/ 
Do you hear me?” roared Wagg. “I don’t hear 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 265 

myself, I am so little.” And so he continued for 
hours, Sophy never losing his patience. 

In a few days Wagg was again about, and Sophy 
resumed his incomprehensible ditties to the silent 
stove, and his rides up Broadway and the Fifth 
Avenue ; sitting gracefully on the saddle, with arm 
akimbo, whilst Beau danced his fandangos and taran- 
tulas in front of Delmonico’s, opposite the principal 
hotels, and in view of Mrs. Norval’s palace. 

One afternoon, whilst Beau was performing a com- 
plicated crab — pas seul } — if I may so describe it — 
opposite that window, Sophy’s constancy was rewarded 
by seeing the sash of the window go up, a white hand 
salute him, and then make a sign to stop. 

Sophy was bewildered. He was thinking what he 
would do with all this good luck thrown at his head, 
when he saw the very pretty girl who had saluted 
him come out and direct her steps down-town. 
Sophy wheeled the astonished Beau, who, unused to 
this performance, thought he must rear up and dance 
vigorously, and did not know what to do. But Sophy 
did not want any hornpipes now, and so he intimated 
to Beau, who soon understood he was to trot like a 
sensible horse for a block, then stop and let his 
master alight. Then Sophy walked up and met the 
lovely girl, who was smiling and showing him very 
white teeth. 

“ You are very kind to take the trouble to dis- 
mount,” said she, with a lovely foreign accent, which 
Sophy thought she must have acquired in speaking 
foreign languages. He too would show her that he 
m 23 


2 66 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


understood several languages, though he did not 
speak them fluently, for want of practice. 

‘‘Jay suisong galan Tom; of course I delight to 
speak to a lady,” said Sophy. 

“ Est-ce que monsieur parle Frangais ?” said she, in 
lovely French. 

“Ong poo. But parlongs anglay, sill voo play. 
Jay ney pa de la practick.” 

Here she complimented him, and told him he spoke 
French beautifully ; and from that they went to other 
topics, and conversed for a long while. But as to be 
conversing on the sidewalk, holding a horse by the 
bridle, rather attracted the attention of the passers- 
by, they agreed that next day Beau’s hornpipes should 
be omitted, and Sophy would ride up in the omnibus 
and she would be in Madison Square walking, and 
they would sit down and have a tete-a-tete. Then 
they separated, delighted with each other. 

“The major may keep his introduction now,” said 
Sophy, as he remounted Beau and rode back to the 
stable. 

Next day, at the appointed hour, all brushed, 
shaved, and perfumed, Sophy sallied from his room 
over the office, and took the omnibus, like any 
other ordinary mortal, and rode up to the corner 
of Twenty-third Street and Madison Avenue. Here 
he descended the high, break-neck steps of the 
’bus, and directed his course towards Madison 
Square. The charming young lady arrived in the 
other ’bus bound downwards, and entered the shaded 
walks of the square. They passed a very delight- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 2 67 

ful hour in conversation, which pleasure was re- 
peated almost daily. In a few days Sophy learned 
a good deal about the *Norval family : all about the 
magnificent entertainments already given, and those 
in prospect ; who were the young ladies’ beaux, and 
who were not ; how they treated Miss Emma Hack- 
well and Miss Lola Medina; — everything, in fine, 
except who the young lady herself giving all this 
charming information was. That Sophy could not 
penetrate, she so cleverly eluded inquiry on that one 
point. But Sophy was determined to find it out, 
— which he did. 


CHAPTER X L I. 

ISAAC IN THE SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY. 

If Isaac’s friends had apparently forgotten him, 
that is no reason we should forget him, and, since he 
can’t come to us, we must go to himf 

All the efforts of Lavinia to rescue or even hear 
of him having failed, it seemed clear that he had to 
be left to his fate, hard though that were. At first, Mrs. 
Norval had often thought of her favorite brother; but, 
from the time that she went from Fortress Monroe to 
Washington, escorted by her merry crew of unbottled 
imps, the memory of poor Isaac grew faint in the 
matron’s heart. In fact, it got trampled out, pushed 
off, when her new lord took full possession of that 


268 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

heart and enthroned himself there absolute and su- 
preme. 

Left to himself, Isaac began to think what to do. 
Catch a Yankee boy in a tight place without imme- 
diately setting himself to work to get out of it ! 

Poor Isaac! he had been very ill with a bilious fever, 
contracted soon after he was captured, and, neglected 
and friendless and penniless, he had suffered much. 
Isaac the stylish dandy had disappeared under the 
rags of Isaac the forgotten prisoner. But his spirits, 
if depressed, were not broken. With returning health 
he regained something of his old cheerfulness and 
much of his genial good nature, and of course be- 
came a favorite with his fellow-prisoners, and even 
with his guards. His amiability and patient good 
humor also gained the friendship of an “American 
citizen of African descent,” who was a power in the 
prison-yard, and a body-servant of the officer in 
charge of the prison. This distinguished citizen was 
called Caesar, hearing which, Sprig had remarked to 
him that he had a friend by that name. 

“ Y’u don’t say ! And what’s y’u calls him ? 
Massa’ calls m’ Sar .” 

“ We call him Ciss,” Sprig answered. And Sar 
was convulsed with laughter. 

“ That’s a gal, that is ! How funny them Yanks ! 
’tisso, he! he! Ciss!” laughed Sar; but from that 
day he took Isaac under his protection, which he 
testified by an occasional hoecake, or piece of bacon, 
which were to Isaac most welcome love-offerings and 
coveted luxuries. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 269 

“ Lots more of dem Yank pris’ners,” said Sar, in a 
confidential whisper to Sprig one day, soon after a 
great battle had been fought. “ I say, massa, p’r’aps 
y’u ’ab friends ’mong dem.” 

Many of the prisoners were brought there, but 
Isaac found no one he knew, — no friend, not one 
among them. But he found something more useful, 
— a friend in a rebel. 

With the new batch of prisoners came a rebel 
officer. After delivering them, he was going to 
mount on horseback, when the wistful look of Isaac’s 
large blue eyes made him think he knew some one 
with just such eyes. Then, casting a glance over 
Isaac’s tattered garments and emaciated limbs, he 
thought how that poor fellow must have suffered, and 
remembered his own dreary life in Northern prisons. 
He mounted his horse, but, as he did so, he again 
caught Isaac’s eyes fixed on him. He was sure he 
had seen those eyes before. He came towards Isaac 
and said, — 

“ How long have you been a prisoner ?” 

“Since the first battle of Bull Run.” 

“ You are among the poor fellows we haven’t been 
able to exchange. What is your name ? Tell me, 
please, have you any relatives in the army ?” 

“ I had a nephew, Julian Norval. Some persons 
have told me he was killed at Chancellorsville ; but 
again I hear that he is a brevet-colonel and lieutenant- 
colonel of the Regiment in the Sixth Corps.” 

“ That is so. He was not killed, though I thought 
/ had killed him at Antietam,” said the officer, dis- 

23* 


270 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


mounting, and coming closer to Isaac. " I know 
Colonel Norval ; I owe him my life, though I tried 
to kill him. I’ll tell you how it was. We had made a 
furious charge on the Yankees, and I was left lying 
badly wounded right in front of the Yankee line. 
The canister of two full batteries was flying over me, 
and I could not move. Every instant I expected and 
hoped would be my last. I raised my hand several 
times, that the Yankees might see where I was and 
shoot that way ; but, instead of that, I noticed that 
the order to stop firing was given. I was faint, 
and had closed my eyes, when I felt some one stoop- 
ing over me. I opened my eyes, and I recognized 
the Yankee officer in command of the battalion. I 
had my pistol cocked in my hand ; I raised it and 
fired at him, right at his breast. The wound must, 
have been severe, for he fell back ; but he arose again 
and said to me, ‘ I had come to lift you up, and 
try to serve you ; and you shoot me. Surely, war 
makes us worse than savages.’ His men came and 
raised him, and he directed them to take me too. 
They carried us to the rear, and then they recom- 
menced the firing. The officer was Colonel Julian 
Norval, who had stopped the firing to pick up a few 
wounded rebels who were near him. But I owe 
more yet to him. When they came to take him to 
the hospital he requested I should be put in the same 
ambulance and carried to the same hospital. There, 
his aunt came to see him, and, finding that I was a 
rebel prisoner, she came to ask me if I knew you. 
I told her I did not, and she seemed sadly disap- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


27I 


pointed ; but she was very kind to me, and personally 
tended me, as if I had been her brother. When I 
was convalescent, and was ordered to prison, I thanked 
her for her great kindness to me, and told her I would 
like so much to be able to repay even a small part of 
her favors. 4 You may/ she said; ‘ if you ever meet 
my poor brother in the South, be kind to him, and 
you will pay tenfold all I have wished to do for you, 
which is much more than I have done.’ I promised 
her I would be kind to you if it should be my good 
luck to meet you, and, with God’s permission, I’ll keep 
my promise. I owe more than life to Colonel Norval. 
I owe him the chance to endeavor to atone for my 
ingratitude towards him at first. I shall not rest now 
until I see you free. Here are twenty dollars, good 
money ; please take them and get something to eat. 
I’ll send you something more, and if you tell Sar to 
come to me, I’ll send you some clothes right away.’' 
And, without giving Sprig time to thank him, the 
officer rode off. 

Sprig did not find it necessary to tell Sar to go 
for the clothes. Sar had been an attentive listener to 
the officer’s recital, and started off after him at a 
trot. 

“ Here, massa, put ’em on, for de Lo’s sake, an’ look 
like a gin’leman ag’in,” said Sar, delivering into 
Isaac’s hands a large bundle containing a full suit of 
clothes, with extra underclothes besides, and a very 
nice pair of shoes, — things not easily found in the 
Southern Confederacy in those days. 

Sprig dressed himself in no time, giving himself 


272 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“a good scrubbing// and he slept soundly ’that 
night. 

But days and days passed, and with the exception 
of some money he received from the officer, Isaac 
had no more tidings of him. 

One day Isaac was sitting on a stone in the prison- 
yard, watching Sar in the process of cleaning his mas- 
ter’s pistols, whistling merrily in his work. Provi- 
dence seemed to have made Sar’s dips especially for 
that purpose, and Abe , Sar’s poodle dog, was appar- 
ently convinced of that fact, and respected his master 
more when he whistled, as he then was fulfilling his 
mission. Abe would occasionally lift his tail and let 
it down with a flap, as if to say “ bravo ,” and con- 
tinue to give him his respectful attention. Isaac was 
amused watching Sar and his dog, and did not perceive 
any one’s arrival until his friend, the rebel officer, 
was close by him, saluting him. Isaac arose and 
shook hands with him, truly most glad to see him 
again. 

“ I have been working for you, though it seemed 
as if I had forgotten you. My efforts to effect your 
exchange have been fruitless. Have you for an 
enemy some influential man in Washington ?” asked 
the rebel officer. 

“ Not that I know of,” answered Sprig. “ But 
wait. Yes, I think I have one. Why do you ask 
me?” 

“ Because you could have been exchanged long 
ago if some one there had not opposed it. Your 
name is not in any record of prisoners, and some one 


WHO WOULD VE THOUGHT IT? 


273 


has- had a hand in taking off your name from the lists. 
I find your name in our lists here, but not there. 
Who is your enemy, if I may ask ?” 

“ Well, I may be wrong, but I think it must be 
Le Grand Gunn, to whom I gave a whipping once. 
He had me dismissed from the department in which I 
was a clerk, and maybe he has done this.” 

“ Depend upon it, he is at the bottom of this mis- 
chief. However, I am going to set you free now, if 
you give me your parole that you will not bear arms 
against us again, unless exchanged. I had to promise 
that in your name, and I think it was but right I 
should. Don’t you ?” 

Isaac replied that it was, and most willingly and 
solemnly pledged himself not to bear arms against 
the Southern Confederacy. Then quietly and unob- 
served he was taken by his rebel friend to a house 
near by, where a saddled horse was waiting for him. 

Here the rebel officer gave him a pass to cross the 
rebel lines, and some money. Then, shaking hands 
with him and wishing him a safe journey, he said, — 

“ My best and most grateful regards to your sister. 
The resemblance of your eyes to hers called my 
attention to you, and enabled me to redeem part of 
my promise. Tell Colonel Norval that ‘ When this 
cruel war is over, I pray we may meet again.’ Mean- 
time, the ungrateful rebel that shot him at Antietam, 
sends his blessing to him. Good-by, and God bless 
you !” 

“ Won’t you tell me your name ?” asked Isaac, 
holding his hand. 

M* 


2;4 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ What’s in a name ?” said he, laughing, and, bow- 
ing to Isaac, went away. 

Isaac met with no accident. His journey was as 
short as could have been expected. He reached 
Alexandria, and there he left the horse to be sent 
back to the rebel officer, when that could be accom- 
plished, and took the cars for Washington, where he 
also arrived in safety. 


CHAPTER XL 1 1. 

“shake not thy gory locks at me. 

THOU CANST NOT SAY I DID IT.” 

The Hon. Le Grand Gunn was sitting by his be- 
loved Lucinda one afternoon, when, without the 
ceremony of ringing the front-door bell, or knocking at 
the parlor door, Isaac Sprig walked into the room, — 
the same room where three years before he had given 
to the Hon. Gunn such a terrible beating in the pres- 
ence of pretty Lucinda. There he was now, the very 
man Isaac wished to find. 

Lucinda screamed. She thought Isaac was his 
own ghost. The Honorable stood up, pale and 
trembling. 

Isaac had made up his mind, on leaving the South, 
to stop in Washington only a day or two. He 
thought he would go to his boarding-house (which 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


275 


was kept by Lucinda’s mother), take his trunk and a 
few other things, and go to New York to embark for 
Mexico. He would try to find Lavinia or Julian that 
day and the next, and then go off. He was sick of** 
his country and countrymen, for what he thought 
their heartless ingratitude in leaving him forgotten 
in a prison. He longed to get away. Thinking 
where he could go, he bethought himself of once 
having had a notion to go to Mexico to carry the 
manuscript found by Cackle at the dead-letter office. 
As soon as this recollection came to his mind*, he re- 
solved to go to Mexico at once and seek his fortune 
there, and get away from ingrates. 

Nothing, therefore, could have been more pacific 
than Isaac’s intentions when he entered that room. 
But no sooner did he see his old foe, Gunn, sitting 
by Lucinda, than the memory of all that he had 
suffered in the Confederacy rushed upon him. 

“You cursed hypocrite and coward, — damned old 
knave !” said Sprig, striding up to the trembling 
Gunn, who shook with fear because Isaac was not 
his ghost, as much as Lucinda had shaken thinking 
that he was. “ I am glad you are the first dog I 
meet on arriving ; you infernal scoundrel ! I’ll pay 
you for leaving me to starve, you vindictive snake ! 
I’ll draw your fangs out, viper ! I’ll make you feel 
I have plenty of strength yet, though half starved 
by you.” 

“ I didn’t ! I didn’t ! I know nothing about it !” 
cried Mr. Gunn, in mortal terror. But Isaac had 
collared him and was shaking him. 


2 76 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ Ca-all a — a — a po-o-liceman, Lucy da-a r-ling !” 
exclaimed Mr. Gunn, as Isaac shook him, holding 
him by the cravat. 

But Lucinda, in her fright, instead of running to 
the front door to call for help, ran up-stairs to her 
room, leaving her devoted ex-congressman in the 
hands of the infuriated Sprig, who, the more he 
pounded his old foe, the more bloodthirsty he felt, 
and did not leave off beating him until Gunn offered 
resistance no longer. When Sprig was satisfied that 
he had given his persecutor a worse beating than the 
previous one, he walked up-stairs to his old room, 
and which Lucinda had occupied in his absence. 

He told Lucinda to give him the key of his trunk, 
and go and lock the front door to prevent any one 
coming without ringing, and discovering Mr. Gunn, 
who was lying insensible on the parlor carpet. Lu- 
cinda obeyed Isaac’s orders, and in a few minutes 
he had changed his dress, taken the gold that he had 
left in his trunk two years and a half before (which 
Lucinda had faithfully guarded), and the manuscript. 
Then he went towards the door, and deliberately 
down-stairs. 

“ Have you nothing to say to me, Isaac ? not a 
word, even ?” said Lucinda to her beloved and never- 
forgotten Isaac, with tears in her pretty eyes. 

“ Yes, that about half an hour after I go, you 
sprinkle some cold water over the lovely face of your 
young lover to bring him to. This mauling was 
worse than the other. I suppose your love will 
grow in proportion. Good-by ! I wish you joy !” 


V 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 2 J7 

So saying, Sprig went down-stairs and to the nearest 
hotel, where he took a hack, and drove to the depot. 
There he arrived just. in time to catch the New York 
train. • 

It had been the intention of Isaac not only to try 
to find Lavinia or Julian in Washington, but, on ar- 
riving in New York, to go to Mr. Sinclair’s and make 
inquiries about the rest of the family. The day he 
arrived in New York Mr. Sinclair was out of the city, 
and, as the Havana steamer would leave next day, 
Isaac thought he had better go then (for he did not 
know to what extent he might have injured Mr. 
Gunn), and not wait till Mr. Sinclair returned. 

He went back to his hotel to write to both his 
sisters, his father, and to Julian, telling them he was 
alive and well, and on his way to Mexico ; that on 
his arrival there he would tell them how and where 
to address him. He carried the letters to mail them 
himself ; then he bought his ticket in the Havana 
steamer, and next day, by twelve o’clock, he was 
going out of New York harbor. 

At Havana, Isaac took passage on an English 
steamer, and, without meeting any accident or un- 
usual delay, he arrived safely at Vera Cruz. Here 
he began to make inquiries about Don Felipe de 
Almenara and Don Luis de Medina, who were 
the persons mentioned in the manuscript ; and from 
the readiness with which his questions were answered, 
he inferred that these two gentlemen were well- 
known men and he would have no difficulty in finding 
them. 


24 


278 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


As soon as he reached the city of Mexico, Isaac, 
after installing himself at the Iturbide Hotel, went to 
inquire where to find the two gentlemen he was in 
search of, and was delighted to hear that they lived 
at a short distance from the capital, and often spent 
some time at a house Don Felipe kept always open 
in the city ready to receive them when they should 
come. Now they were at their country-seat, some 
three or four miles from town. Isaac inquired for the 
hacienda mentioned in the manuscript as being situ- 
ated in the northern part of Sonora, and was told that 
it had not been visited by its owners since 1846, when 
a fearful calamity had befallen the family there, and 
the hacienda, though a most beautiful place, was now 
left to the care of a major-domo, who lived and grew 
rich there, but who had to keep the hacienda as a 
besieged fortress, with a garrison always on the alert ; 
because the government of Mexico, being a free and 
independent government, lets its Indians live as they 
please, and its more civilized citizens take care of 
themselves as best they may. 

The morning following his arrival, Isaac, after par- 
taking of a good breakfast, called for a hack, and 
directed the driver to take him to Don Felipe de 
Almenara’s house. 

“ Don Felipe is not at his house in town, sir. Shall 
I drive to his country residence ?” said the polite 
driver, hat in hand. A thing which our drivers would 
rather perish than do; and we have to be very thankful 
if, after cheating and robbing us, and being insolent, 
they don’t apply their whips to our backs ; which, I 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


279 


think, the public well deserves for submitting so 
tamely to all their gross impositions. 

Whilst Isaac, leaning back on a well-cushioned 
carriage, enjoys the magnificent scenery on his route, 
and builds innumerable castles on the classic ground 
of Montezuma the timid and Cortez the daring, we 
will see what the two gentlemen he is in search of 
are doing, and hear what they are saying. They are 
sitting in the library by a table loaded with papers, 
books, reviews, pamphlets, etc. They are reading 
letters of great interest, to judge from the eagerness 
and attention with which they read them, and these 
letters have arrived by the last mail from Europe. 
When they opened a letter in English or German, 
the younger of the two, who was Don Luis Medina, 
translated it to his father-in-law, the older man, Don 
Felipe de Almenara. In French or Spanish, Don 
Felipe read them himself. 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

ISAAC IN THE LAND OF THE AZTECS. 

When the allied troops of France, England, and 
Spain landed at Vera Cruz, in 1862, Don Felipe de 
Almenara at once resolved to offer assistance to the 
government, in money, to drive off the invaders, he 
being too old to recommence the life of a soldier 
and take the field against them. But his son-in-law, 


2 8o WHO WOULD have thought it? 


Don Luis Medina, immediately joined -the army, and 
took an active part in checking Lorencez’s progress, 
and in the obstinate and gallant defense of Puebla. 

Don Felipe and Don Luis, therefore, had been 
among the firmest and most prompt supporters of the 
republican government up to the winter of 1863. In 
December of this year, however, and just about the 
time of Isaac’s arrival in Mexico, these letters which 
the two gentlemen perused so eagerly as Isaac was 
riding towards them had come. These letters said 
that there was a very strong probability — almost 
a certainty — that the Archduke Maximilian would 
accept the proposed throne of Mexico; that he still 
hesitated ; but that, as a great field for a noble and 
lofty ambition was thus opened to him, and he was 
known to be of generous impulses, the friends of mon- 
archism anticipated that he would accept, in the hope 
of effecting a great good by giving the Mexican 
people a stable government, which would bring to 
therp peace and prosperity, and raise them to a high 
rank among the civilized nations of the world. 

No argument could have been more specious to 
Maximilian’s heart and mind. 

“ This is rather too much of a dilemma for me, I 
must say,” Don Luis Medina observed. “ Whilst 
the question is of repelling the French, or any other 
nation that comes to Mexico as a hostile invader, I 
shall not hesitate in giving my all in the defense of 
our country. But, though I am a Mexican at heart 
as well as by adoption, I shall find it too difficult to 
make up my mind to fight against an Austrian prince, 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


and above all Prince Maximilian. My Austrian blood 
rebels against fighting him.” 

“ I am not an Austrian. I was born on Mexican 
soil,” said Don Felipe ; “ but if it is positive and cer- 
tain that the Archduke will accept the crown of 
Mexico, I shall be only too happy to be the most 
loyal of his subjects. And, what is more, not only 
will I consider such an act perfectly honorable and 
patriotic, but I would consider it wrong to oppose 
the re-establishing of a monarchy in Mexico under a 
Hapsburg, for the Hapsburgs were, and are, the 
legitimate and lawful heirs of the glorious Isabella 
and the great Charles V.” 

“ Such an opinion, however, would only be derided 
in Mexico. The right of succession is laughed at 
nowadays,” Don Luis replied. 

“ I know it ; I know that loyalty is wellnigh ex- 
tinct all over the world. But I am old-fashioned, and, 
what is more, I am a true Almenara. No one can 
make me believe that the Bourbons have, or ever had, 
a right to the throne of Spain ; neither can any one 
dissuade me from the belief that the House of Haps- 
burg have — if not an absolute and admitted right — 
at least a foundation for a claim, a valid justification, 
to entitle them to re-establish a sovereignty in 
Mexico. How (J? we know that Mexico would have 
declared her independence from Spain if she had been 
under a Hapsburg instead of a Bourbon dynasty ? 
The Mexicans did not want a republic ; they wanted 
a good and just prince. Witness all the efforts of 
Iturbide and his party to induce some of those timid 
24* 


282 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

Bourbons to come here. Under a different dynasty, 
we might now have been an independent kingdom. 
P'erdinand would have done a much more manly and 
wise act by coming here to establish a glorious and 
mighty empire than by putting himself, like a poor 
woman, under Napoleon’s protection. I have no pa- 
tience with those Bourbons. To their pusillanimity 
Mexico owes all her miseries, — to their neglect and 
indifference. And what makes all this more aggravat- 
ing to me is, that they were never entitled to govern, 
or misgovern, Mexico. The Hapsburgs were cheated 
out of Mexico by Louis XIV.’s intrigues, as much 
as they were cheated out of all the other lands 
belonging then to Spain. Therefore, to my mind, a 
Hapsburg is not in the least wrong if he endeavors 
to repossess himself of some of these lands unfairly 
wrested from his family. I honor him for it.” 

“ That is not, however, the ground upon which the 
Mexican Commission have based their invitation to 
the Archduke. Nor has Prince Maximilian himself 
made any allusion to a possible claim of his as a 
descendant of Charles V., or to the fact that the will 
of Philip IV. made Margaret next heir to Charles 
II., and Charles had no right to change the succes- 
sion.” 

“ Of course not. I did not expect it ; and, in truth, 
I am glad he has not. To base his throne upon the 
will of the people is more suitable to the ideas of the 
present time. This pleases me the more because (as 
you know) I am convinced that a republican form of 
government is not suited to the Mexicans, and it is 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


283 


well that the change be made with their free approval. 
On the other hand, this change is even more accept- 
able, because a Hapsburg is the prince selected, his 
house being the only one that, by the established and 
accepted principles of Europe, can be said to have 
any hereditary claim to a land conquered by Isabella’s 
soldiers. Such a monarchy can have nothing — ought 
to have nothing — objectionable to the Mexicans. Of 
course the ideas of this continent are different from 
those of Europe, but we all know that such would 
not be the case if the influence of the United States 
did not prevail with such despotic sway over the 
minds of the leading men of the Hispano-American 
republics. If it were not for this terrible, this fatal 
influence , — which will eventually destroy us — the Mexi- 
cans, instead of seeing anything objectionable in the 
proposed change, would be proud to hail a prince 
who, after all, has some sort of a claim to this land, 
and who will cut us loose from the leading-strings of 
the United States.” 

“ Half of our leading men love and kiss these lead- 
ing-strings,” said Don Luis, smiling. 

Here a servant interrupted their conversation, 
bringing in a card, which he presented to Don Felipe, 
and retired to wait his orders. Don Felipe saw the 
card, but, it being in English, he did not understand 
it, and handed it over to Don Luis, who translated as 
he read : “ Isaac Sprig, an American gentleman, 
would like to see Don Felipe Almenara, if he is the 
father of Dona Maria Theresa de Medina, who was 
carried off by the Indians in 1846.” 


284 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ Great God!” Don Luis exclaimed, starting up. 
“ Where is this man ?” 

The servant came forward and said that the stranger 
who had given him the card was outside, waiting. 
Don Felipe told him to bring him in, and in a few 
minutes our friend Isaac walked in, preceded by the 
servant. 

“ Tell me, sir, is my daughter living ?” 

“ Where is she now ?” 

“ I am her father.” 

“ I am her husband.” 

These were the words with which Sprig was saluted. 
The two Mexican gentlemen — forgetting, for the first 
time in their lives, I venture to say, all their civility — 
never thought of saluting Isaac or offering him a 
seat. He, however, understood their feelings, and 
kindly answered, — 

“ Please, gentlemen, speak English, for my knowl- 
edge of the Spanish language is very limited.” 

Don Felipe shook his head in token of his inability 
to speak English ; but Don Luis was more fortunate 
in that respect, and said, in good English, — 

“ It is a long time since I spoke your language, sir, 
but I shall endeavor to speak it now. At least I hope 
I’ll understand all you have to say about my wife, 
whom we have mourned for more than sixteen long 
years. Tell me, sir, without delay, what is it that 
you know about Dona Theresa de Medina?” 

“ All I know is what I learned from a manuscript 
I casually found in Washington at the dead-letter 
office.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 285 

“Was the manuscript addressed to me? Who 
wrote the manuscript ?” 

“ It was written by a man named Adrian Lebrun, 
and dictated by Dona Theresa herself. But to whom 
it was addressed I cannot tell.” .And here Isaac re- 
lated the manner in which the manuscript was found 
and kept by him. Also, that he had been made 
a prisoner, and on being released, feeling discon- 
tented, and having before had the notion of visiting 
Mexico, he bethought himself of the manuscript, and 
resolved to find the gentlemen therein mentioned, 
and show it to them, believing that if he could be 
of assistance in the matter, the gentlemen, in return, 
would help him to find some honorable employment 
in Mexico. 

Don Luis translated to Don Felipe all that Isaac 
said, and both assured him that he was not mistaken 
in relying upon their gratitude. Then Don Luis 
asked where was now the manuscript; and when 
Sprig answered that he had left it at his hotel, both 
gentlemen expressed a wish to accompany him to the 
city to get it at once, and immediately prepared to 
start. * 

Don Felipe rang for a servant, and told him to 
serve some refreshments to the gentleman, and to 
order the carriage in which they always went to 
town, whilst Don Luis collected and, with trembling 
hands, tried to arrange the papers scattered on the 
table. 

When the carriage drove to the door, the two 
anxious men were already in the hall, putting on 


286 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


their gloves and hats ; seeing which, Sprig reluctantly 
gave up the delicious lunch he was enjoying, taking 
a parting glass of the best wine he had ever tasted in 
all his life. They told him not to hurry ; that they 
could wait until he -finished his lunch ; but Sprig was 
too polite to make them wait. Then the three got 
into the carriage, whilst the hack which had brought 
Isaac followed empty behind. Two servants rode 
outside with the coachman. 

The winter days being short, it was already dark 
when the travelers stopped in front of the Iturbide 
Hotel, where Sprig alighted to get the manuscript, 
which Don Luis received with hands trembling with 
eagerness. 

They asked Isaac to come to stay at their house, 
and make his home with them whilst he was in 
Mexico. Isaac blushed a little, — more with pleasure, 
perhaps, for his purse was not overfull, — and, after 
a slight hesitation, accepted the kind offer. He went 
back to the hotel, paid his bill and gave directions 
where to send his trunk, got into the carriage again, 
and they went on to Don Felipe’s house, which was a 
very handsome and commodious one. * 

On arriving home, Don Felipe ordered his ser- 
vants — all of whom were males, with the exception of 
an old housekeeper — to take the best care of the 
Sefior Americano. Then, with signs and bows, and 
Spanish very distinctly pronounced, Don Felipe 
begged Isaac to make himself at home; that supper 
would be served to him as soon as he pleased, but 
that he and Don Luis felt no desire to eat, and 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


287 


hoped Isaac would excuse them ; that they were 
very anxious to read the manuscript. 

Isaac bowed also, and made signs that he would 
take care of himself, and the gentlemen need not 
stand on any ceremony, etc. 

Don Felipe then saluted him, and followed Don 
Luis to the library, locking the door after him, to 
exclude inquisitive servants. 

When Don Felipe went into the library, Don Luis 
had read the first two pages, and was now, with his 
head upon the table, weeping like a child, like a weak 
woman ; but he was not ashamed of his tears. It 
seemed to him that he had not realized all the horror 
of his wife’s fate until now, — all the life-agony of 
his pure and beautiful and accomplished Theresa. 
And he had not ; for he had mourned her as dead, 
and only occasionally the fear that her fate might 
have been worse would come to his mind with fright- 
ful distinctness. And it had been worse, a million 
times worse ! She, the pure, the high-minded, refined, 
and delicate Theresa, to meet such a fate ! It was hor- 
rible as well as terrible ! The two proud gentlemen 
bowed their heads low in shame and horror and 
pity! 

Long they remained thus bowed, but the task must 
be done. They must read on and know all, — all. 
They must drink drop by drop the bitter chalice, 
all, all, — to the dregs. 

And who has not drunk more or less deeply in 
some, if not many, bitter chalices ? Who has had 
only honey in his or her cup ? I would like to see 


288 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

that person, and ask how many summers he or she 
has counted. Certainly not thirty. 

Misery is, undoubtedly, “ the lot of mortals,” but 
there is no doubt, either, that in some countries cer- 
tain kinds of evils are impossible. If Mexico were 
well governed, if her frontiers were well protected, 
the fate of Doha Theresa would have been next to an 
impossibility. When it is a well-known fact that 
savages will devastate towns that are not well 
guarded, is there any excuse for a government that 
will neglect to provide sufficient protection ? Does 
a plea of economy counterbalance an appeal for life ? 
How fearful is the responsibility of lawgivers and 
law executors ! 

Thinking of this, the mind is led to the thought 
that — with some exceptions, of course — a nation can, 
with a good government, avoid the majority of those 
misfortunes which we now call “ unavoidable human 
sorrows.” If we were to trace our troubles to their 
veritable source, we would often reach, more or less 
directly, their origin in our lawgivers. Not only 
the dwellers of the frontiers, not only the victims of 
lawsuits, not only But I am no political philoso- 

pher. I am wandering away from my humble path. 
We must go back to the readers of the manuscript, 
and accompany them in their sad task. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


289 


CHAPTER X L I V. 

BOUND FOR THE UNITED STATES. 

All night the two unfortunate gentlemen sat by 
that table, one reading and translating, when he could 
command his voice sufficiently to speak, and the 
other listening horrified, both weeping for pity, ten- 
der, holy pity, for her, their best-beloved. Yes, 
there she seemed looking at them from that portrait. 
The beautiful radiant face smiled on them as if say- 
ing, “ Do not weep for me. Do not mourn. I am 
an angel now. I was always pure, for my soul did 
not sin, although I was insulted by a savage. I was 
a martyr, now an angel.” 

They came to a passage where Dona Theresa 
said that although suicide is a wicked sin, she would 
have committed it if she had not been restrained by 
the thought that thus she would kill her own child 
before it was born, and afterwards by the hope that 
if she lived, she might rescue her little daughter 
from a fate like her own; whilst if she died, her 
child could perhaps never leave her horrible cap- 
tivity. “At this hour of my death,” Dona Theresa 
said, “ and when about to appear before my Maker, 
I forgive the horrible savages who inflicted upon me 
the most terrible torture that the human soul can 
know, — the agony of living in degradation forever on 

N 25 


290 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


earth. But I trust that with the hourly sufferings of 
these ten long years, I have purchased for my child, 
my husband, and my father, the happiness that was 
denied to me. Good-by, my beloved three. It is 
well I go now to a better world, for how could I 
follow my child, or bear the sight of my Luis? 
Never ! No ! Shame would strike me dead at his 
feet, never to rise again !” 

When in broken accents Don Luis translated this 
passage, so full of the sorrow and shame of the high- 
toned lady, the two gentlemen arose and paced the 
room, in vain endeavor to suppress the grief that 
convulsed their strong frames. Don Felipe sank 
down into a chair, and no longer restrained the 
tears that flowed on his venerable face. Don Luis 
fell on the sofa, utterly crushed ; and he too gave 
vent to the grief he could no longer contain. How 
long they wept and mourned thus the two men did 
not know. 

The gray dawn pushed timidly through the lattice 
a pale ray of light, but the two sorrow-stricken 
mourners took no notice of the coming day ; the 
morning twilight went by; and the sun came in, and 
they did not know it. 

About eight o’clock in the morning, Nacho, Don 
Felipe’s valet, ventured to knock at the door. He 
too had watched all night, for he had a suspicion that 
something was wrong, else his master would have 
been in bed by ten o’clock. Now he came to see if 
his master would have a cup of chocolate ; this Don 
Felipe, and also Don Luis, refused. Charging Nacho 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


29I 


again to take good care of the American gentleman, 
and to say for them that they would see him at dinner, 
they dismissed him and returned to their heart-rend- 
ing lecture. 

“The darkest hour is when near daylight.” Thus, 
in that horrible night of mental agony there came a 
sweet consolation. The image of a child, Theresa’s 
child, was the saving angel : it came to save those two 
unfortunate men from the madness of despair. Yes, 
a beloved fruit of that pure and transient love, of 
that happiness so tragically terminated, was living. 
Don Luis could scarcely restrain his impatience when 
at the end of the manuscript, Doha Theresa again 
begged that “ the Doctor ” would make every effort to 
find Lolita’s father. 

“ It is plain that Theresa commended our child to 
a doctor. Where can he be ?” Don Luis exclaimed. 
And he hastened to ring the bell to send for Isaac. 
Nacho answered the bell. 

“ Has the American gentleman gone out?” asked 
Don Luis. 

“ No, sir; he is breakfasting,” Nacho replied. 

“Tell him I beg he will come here as soon as he 
finishes his breakfast,” said Don Luis; and Nacho 
left, to return soon after with Isaac, who had just 
finished a delicious breakfast, after a night of calm 
repose. 

He bowed to the two pale, sorrow-stricken gentle- 
men, on whose faces the traces of the fearful suffering 
of that night were but too distinct. Don Luis said, 
motioning him to take a seat, — 


292 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ This manuscript, sir, says that — that there is — a 
child — a ” 

“Yes, I know; a girl named Lolita,” interrupted 
kind Isaac, seeing that Don Luis was so agitated that 
he could hardly speak. “ I read the manuscript my- 
self, as I told you ; but I made no inquiries about the 
little girl, for two reasons : the first, because I did not 
have the necessary time, and the second, because I 
thought I would first ascertain whether you lived 
and I could find you, who were the most interested. 
Then the next step would be to find the child.” 

“ And can we do that, when you say that the ad- 
dress of the manuscript was lost ?” 

“ I think we might get a clue by advertising, and, 
if you wish, I can write to-day to the United States 
to friends to insert for me the advertisement at once. 
We can also advertise in San Francisco, in California, 
inquiring for the doctor who took the child, and in 
France we can advertise for Lebrun, who wrote the 
manuscript as Dona Theresa dictated.” 

Don Luis said he liked Isaac’s idea very much, 
and translated to Don Felipe the suggestion. This 
gentleman also approved it ; and now the three sat 
by the table to form a plan together for future opera- 
tions. 

It was decided that Don Luis would immediately 
retire from the army, and, as soon as his resignation 
was accepted, he would go, accompanied by Sprig, 
to the United States, in search of his daughter. In 
the mean time, Sprig would send advertisements to 
be published all over the United States, but princi- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


293 


pally in New York and San Francisco, also in Paris, 
for Adrian Lebrun. Don Luis sat at a desk to write 
his resignation at once, whilst Isaac wrote his letters 
to the United States containing the advertisements for 
New York as well as those to be published in Paris 
and San Francisco. 

As the French were already in possession of the 
city of Mexico, and Don Luis and Don Felipe both 
belonged to the Liberal party, they had to keep their 
visit to the capital a profound secret, and deemed it 
prudent to return to the hacienda that same night. 
They did so, after seeing that the resignation of Don 
Luis was forwarded to the republican government, 
then at San Luis Potosi. 

This government, however, refused to accept the 
resignation at first, and much as Don Luis wished to 
leave immediately for the United States, he was com- 
pelled to wait over two months before he succeeded 
in being allowed to leave Mexico. There were ru- 
mors that he wished to join the French, — rumors 
which, considering that he was an Austrian, could 
not be said to be altogether unfounded. About the 
1st of March, 1864, — after great difficulties and de- 
lays, and only when he pledged his word that he 
wished to resign to go in search of his lost child, — 
a leave of absence was granted to him. With 
this he was obliged to content himself; and, accom- 
panied by Isaac, to whom they were now very much 
attached, they started for Vera Cruz en route for New 
York. 

Isaac did not regret their delay. He had sent his 
25* 


294 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


advertisements two months in advance, and was thus, 
moreover, enabled to write a very kind letter to Lu- 
cinda, begging her pardon for his parting words, and 
laughingly inquiring for the health of Le Grand 
Gunn. 

Lucinda promptly answered that though the Hon. 
G. had been obliged to keep in bed for three weeks, 
he was now well and anxious to hush up the little 
episode. 

That was all Isaac desired. 


CHAPTER X L V. 

how Julian’s patriotic song was cut short. 

Julian led the chorus, and about a dozen clear, 
ringing voices took it up and followed. Song after 
song was poured out by the careless singers, as if 
to-morrow’s night might not spread her dark mantle 
over their stiffened corpses. Julian, being the host, 
was kept busy “ mixing drinks” for his thirsty guests. 
He had just mixed a new batch of “ cocktails,” and 
again led the boys of the Sixth Corps in a clear bari- 
tone, — 

“ Hurrah for the Union, hurrah, boys, hurrah ! 

Down with the traitor and up with the stars l 
And we’ll rally round the flag, boys, 

And we’ll rally once again, 

Shouting the battle-cry of ‘ Freedom P ” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


2 9 5 


An orderly came in and delivered to him a long 
envelope sealed, which Julian took, and, without stop- 
ping his song, waved the paper over his head as he 
emphasized 

“ Shouting the battle-cry of ‘ Freedom /’ ” 

Then, leaving the singers to continue the song, he 
approached a camp-table, where a lamp was burning, 
to read the document just received. 

He read it twice, then again, before he could com- 
prehend the meaning of it. He turned very pale as 
he began to understand, and felt very giddy and sick, 
and he staggered as he silently and slowly walked 
out of the tent to tell his orderly to saddle one of his 

horses and bring it to the tent of General . 

Meantime, he went there himself on foot. 

“ I wonder what made Norval stagger and look so 
pale as he went out ?” said one of the thirsty con- 
vivials. 

“ The fire makes the tent so hot,” replied another, 
“ for he never drinks liquor.” 

“No, he never touches liquor; but I guess he got 
news from his father. You know report says he was 
killed last year,” added a third. 

“Two years ago, the report goes; but Norval 
doesn’t believe it.” 

Another song was started, and all joined in, soon 
forgetting Julian’s paleness and the probable cause 
of it, whilst he walked to the general’s tent. 

“ Good-evening, general,” said Julian, walking in. 
“ Can I speak to you for a few minutes ?” 


2 g6 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

The general was alone, writing; he looked up, and, 
seeing Julian looking so pale, he said, kindly, pointing 
to a seat, — 

“ Sit down, colonel. What can I do for you ?” 

“ You can tell me what all this means. It can’t be 
to me that this communication is addressed ! Is 
there not some mistake about it ?” 

The general cast a glance over the paper which 
Julian held in his trembling hand, and said, with evi- 
dent reluctance, — 

“ No, it is not a mistake; but the adjutant need not 
have sent it to you this evening. I told him I wished 
to notify you first that I had received that order, so 
as to give you a few days to communicate with your 
friends. They might have it rescinded.” 

“ But what have I done ? Why am I dismissed 
without at least knowing what charges are brought 
against me, or by whom, and without giving me a 
chance to defend myself?” 

“ That I cannot tell you, for I don’t know it my- 
self; I wish I did.” 

“ General, I am not guilty of any crime, or deed, 
or thought whatsoever, to bring this disgrace upon 
me. I beg you, as a man of honor, to allow me just 
sufficient time to go to Washington, and if this 
order is not rescinded by telegraph, then you may 
publish it. I shall not be in this world to know it. 
Will you do that?” 

“ Yes. But go now, this instant. You can catch 
the train which leaves Brandy Station at eleven 
o’clock, and be in Washington to-morrow morning.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


297 


“I thank you, general,” said Julian, in a husky 
voice. He wished to say more, but the words died 
on his colorless lips. The 'general arose and took 
his icy hand, which he kindly pressed with both of 
his, saying, — 

“ Courage, my boy. These things will happen in 
all countries in unhappy times like the present. We 
Americans are not angels, to be exempt from wrong, 
and injustice will visit the innocent among us, as it has 
among other peoples in all ages. Be of good heart, 
for this, after all, might be something that you can 
explain away at once. Go and see the President in 
person ; for as the dismissal, you see, is *by order of 
the Preside?it ,’ he can, if he likes, rescind his order 
without delay.” 

“ Thank you, general, with all my heart I shall 
do as you say, and, come what may, I shall be your 
devoted friend as long as I live,” said Julian, pressing 
the general’s hand. 

But a few minutes sufficed Julian to ride back to . 
his camp, and take from a traveling-trunk in his back 
tent some money. Then he told his orderly to go 
with him to the station to bring back the horses. 
Putting on a heavy overcoat, and a revolver in the 
pocket of it, he started to take the eleven o’clock train, 
which was just moving off as he jumped upon the 
platform. 

On arriving at Washington next morning, Julian 
endeavored to eat some breakfast, but his throat 
seemed to have contracted and refused to swallow 
more than a cup of coffee. This done, he called a 

N* 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


298 

hack, and told the driver to take him to General 
Cackle’s quarters. 

He found that renowned soldier surrounded by his 
obsequious staff, with whom he was about to ride 
out to visit the troops around the capital. 

“ Can I speak with you alone, general ?” said 
Julian, after shaking hands with the hero of the 
brilliant charge. 

“ Certainly,” said he, condescendingly, stepping 
aside. 

“ Have you heard any unpleasant rumors about 
me?” commenced Julian, looking the hero straight 
in the face. 

“ Well ! What do you mean ? What kind of 
rumors ?” 

“ General, you do know something about me, and 
you must tell me what it is.” 

“ Well, do you mean the talk about your disloyalty, 
and about being dismissed for it ?” 

“Yes. What is it?” 

“ All I know about it is that you have been talking 
against the President, saying that he is usurping 
powers ; that he had no right to issue the emancipation 

proclamation, and Hush! here comes Beau. Not 

a word to him that I mentioned a thing to you,” said 
Ciss, lowering his voice. Then very loud: “Yes, I heard 
you are getting ready to break up camp. I envy 
you. I love the bustle of camp-life. I am sick of 
‘fancy duty.’ I shall apply to be sent to the field 
again.” 

“ Good-morning, Colonel Norval,” said the Hon. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


299 

Mirabeau Cackle, who certainly would not have 
approached so near if he had sooner recognized 
Julian ; but the latter being with his back to the door, 
his face was not seen by the eminent orator until too 
late to retreat. 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Cackle,” said Julian, shaking 
the proffered hand of the great leader. “You came 
just in time, for I was going to your house to try to 
catch you before you went to the Capitol.” 

“ Were you ? I’ll see you this evening, if it’s all the 
same to you. Now I am on my way to see the 
President on appointment,” he replied. 

“ It is precisely to get you to go to the President’s 
with me that I was going to look for you.” 

The Honorable winced and looked around as if in 
search of some one who would do him the favor to 
take Julian to the devil. He hesitated; then said, — 

“You can go with me, if you like, and take your 
chance of seeing the President ; but he is very busy, 
and sees very few people except on pressing and im- 
portant business.” 

“ My business, I assure you, is of the most impor- 
tant nature,” said Julian, very firmly. 

“ Come along, then ; we’ll try,” said the patriot and 
statesman, hurrying out of the room for fear that 
Julian might tell him what was this business of his, 
which the orator knew better than he, but didn’t 
want to hear. 

When they arrived at the White House, Beau told 
Julian to walk about in the East Room, or in the ves- 
tibule or lobby, or look on the avenue from the East 


300 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


Room windows, but not to go up-stairs to the recep- 
tion-room, for he would get tired of looking at the 
anxious faces of people who had come there day- 
after day in the vain hope of seeing the President 
“And why don’t they see him?” asked Julian, 
naively, laboring under the delusion of old times, 
when the President held it to be his highest honor to 
be called the servant of the American people. 

Beau smiled at Julian’s verdancy, and replied, — 

“ The President is too busy with weighty affairs to 
be bothered with all the old women who have their 
sons prisoners, or can’t be found, or a thousand other 
trifles” ' 

“ They are trifles to you, but not to them, and ought 
not to be to the President,” said Julian. “They are 
ready, perhaps, to give their heart’s blood for these 
trifles. In a country of equals, every man’s concerns 
are as important as any other’s.” 

Beau shrugged his shoulders and ran up-stairs, 
leaving Julian to his antiquated political philosophy. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


301 


CHAPTER X L V I. 

“ OH, ROMEO, WHERE ART THOU ?” 

“JE PLEURE, ET LE ROI s’AMUSE !” 

This was the first time that Julian had cooled his 
heels in any great man’s antechamber, and he did 
not do it patiently. A whole hour elapsed before 
Beau came out and told him that, as it was Tuesday, 
there would be a cabinet meeting, and the President 
would not be able to see him until to-morrow. Julian 
did not like this. He had seen several men go in 
smiling and come out laughing, — doubtless at the 
President’s jokes, — and their business could not be so 
pressing as his, else they could not smile, much less 
laugh. Why, then, see them in preference ? He said 
as much to Beau, with the grand simplicity of a true 
American who has accepted — au pied de la lettre — in 
all sincerity the lofty theories of republicanism, and 
honors his country and his government with a manly 
reverence truly noble. 

Beau smiled, again repeating, “ To-morrow you 
will see him. Come early.” 

But to-morrow passed, and the next, and the next, 
and now it was Saturday, -and Julian was sure that 
on the morrow — being Sunday, and the order dis- 
missing him not having been rescinded — he would 
26 


302 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


be disgraced before the world. The order of his dis- 
missal would surely be read out by the adjutant be- 
fore his regiment, ay, before his brigade, before the 
whole corps, before the army of the Potomac ! And 
Lola ! She would know it, she would know that he 
was disgraced like a coward before the world. And 
she would pity him, but be ashamed of him. No, he 
did not want her pity. 

“ You will not see me alive, Lola; your lovely eyes 
shall never behold me a disgraced man.” 

And Julian examined carefully a little pocket five- 
shooter he carried in an inside-pocket of his coat ; 
then he buttoned up his coat, thereby setting off the 
symmetry of his tall, graceful form. But he thought 
very little of the admiring glances which followed 
him as he went through the parlors of the hotel, 
looking for General Cackle, who had promised to 
meet him there with his brother Beau to go to the 
White House with him. He walked up and down 
the long corridor, vainly waiting for the Cackles, and 
his handsome pale face grew paler, and his dark-blue 
eyes darker, whilst the emotions which agitated him 
gave a glowing intensity to his gaze. But he was 
utterly unconscious of his great manly beauty. He 
looked with a sort of stern disdain on everybody, for 
he was in despair. His finely-cut lips, always so full 
of bonhommie , had uttered but few words, and not 
once smiled, since he left camp. 

The ladies at the hotel; who after breakfast had as- 
sembled in the parlors to hear and to retail gossip, 
were hushed when they saw him enter and look all 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


303 


around anxiously for some one. His gaze, so sad, so 
full of thought and feeling, went mournfully over the 
heads of the admiring groups, resting on no one, un- 
conscious of the tremor it sent through so many 
hearts. 

Seeing that the Cackles did not come, and it was 
getting very late, Julian left the hotel, to go to the 
White House alone. 

Several of the ladies ran to the window to see him 
go out ; to see if he would walk, or drive, or ride on 
horseback. “Who could he be? Never had they 
seen such a handsome man ! Oh, he is superhu- 
manly beautiful !” said a young miss j ust out of school 
and who wrote poetry. He, meantime, had gone out. 
He crossed the street. There was a lady. He was 
going towards her. She stopped. She comes to 
meet him. And she extends both her hands, which 
he takes. And — and — she kisses him. Oh, who 
can that happy, happy woman be ? 

“ Aunt Lavvy, dear, I am so glad to see you !” 
said he (but his admirers did not hear it), taking her 
arm and placing it most affectionately in his. “ I am 
on my way to the White House ; walk that way with 
me. It is not very gallant to make such a request 
instead of offering to walk with you, but I haven’t a 
minute to spare, having lost all the morning waiting 
for the Cackles, who promised to come to go with me.” 

“ The Cackles ! Which of them ? They are the 
same, however. Don’t talk to me about any Cackle 
whatsoever. Their heads are completely turned by 
prosperity, — all, all, commencing with the old man 


304 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


and the old woman. And to think, Julian, how much 
they owe to your father ! But don’t talk to me about 
Cackles. Tell me what brought you to Washington. 
How long have you been here ? Why haven’t you 
been to see me ?” 

Answering all these questions, Julian walked up 
Fourteenth Street with Lavvy to the corner of “ F” 
Street. There the admiring eyes at the hotel win- 
dows lost sight of him, as he and Lavvy walked 
towards the Treasury building, then around the corner 
on Pennsylvania Avenue, to the gates of the White 
House. Here Julian bade Lavvy good-morning, prom- 
ising to go to see her in the evening and report the 
result of that day’s efforts. 

Fortune did not seem in a more propitious mood 
this day than the previous. Julian saw the morning 
pass by, and the afternoon came whilst he yet waited. 
Presently he heard music quite near, and wondered 
where it could be ; but he did not know. From the 
windows of the East Room he saw people come and 
go around the house to the other side.. Where could 
they be going, laughing so merrily, so gayly dressed ? 
He looked at his watch : it was nearly four o’clock. 

He could wait no longer. He rushed up-stairs, de- 
termined to see the President. He talked to himself 
as he ran up and walked through several rooms. 

“What!” muttered he, “have we free-born Ameri- 
cans turned into slavish courtiers, and are we to dance 
attendance at the antechamber of a despot ? I will 
see the President, or know why not. He shall tell 
me why he dismisses me and sends me branded be- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


305 


fore my fellow-men. By the heavens above, I shall 
know why !” And Julian entered first one room, 
then ano her; but not even a clerk was to be found. 

Turning to go down-stairs again, he met the page 
who had daily opened the door for a whole week to 
him. 

“ Look here, my good man, I am sick of waiting. 
I must see the President. Where is he ?” said the 
despairing Julian. 

“ He is at dinner now, and he don’t like to trans- 
act any business after dinner. You’d better return on 
Monday,” the man answered. Julian laughed a loud 
laugh, and pushed the man aside. “ He is crazy,” 
thought the page, not knowing whether he ought to 
stop Julian by force. But as two gentlemen, who 
were liberal patrons of his, now appeared at the door, 
he turned his back on the pale-faced, distracted Julian, 
who evidently had no influence, to -run smiling to- 
wards those who had. Julian, thus left to his own 
resources, went hurriedly about the house in search 
of a servant whom he could bribe; yes, he would 
give him five hundred dollars to take him to the 
President. But good luck did not bring him against 
any servant. 

“ To wait until Monday ! Oh, God ! did you hear 
that? Until Monday! And to-morrow my igno- 
minious dismissal will be announced, and I shall be 
forever disgraced ! I will not leave this house alive 
until this man rescinds his inhuman order, or at least 
gives me a fair trial ! Why should I not have a trial ? 
by heavens! why not? Has might usurped the place 
26* 


306 WH0 ‘ would have thought it? 

of right in this free, beloved land of ours ? Am I a 
free man, or an abject slave ? I want to know that 
Thus soliloquizing, in a not very low tone, Julian came 
into a room hung with red damask ; he crossed it, 
and entered an octagonal room hung in blue. Crossing 
this, he found himself on a piazza fronting upon the 
greenswarded lawn, where the Marine Band was 
playing, and a gay assemblage was listening to the 
music, walking or standing in groups, or alone, or 
sitting on benches under the tree ;. 

Nothing could be more joyous than this scene; 
but a single rapid glance only did Julian bestow 
upon the gay crowd. Here, close by him, sat the 
object of his anxious thoughts and wild search. 
The President sat there lis ening to the music and 
looking at the people , — his people. 


CHAPTER XLVIL 

JULIAN STATES HIS CASE TO THE PRESIDENT. 

The President held in his hand a gold-headed cane, 
which had just been sent to him by a lady in token 
of gratitude, and he tapped his teeth with the gold 
head of it, keeping time to the music. His leg hung 
over the arm of his chair and dangled regularly, like 
a ballistic pendulum, also keeping time. When the 
base drum gave, at measured intervals, a sound as if 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


30 7 


a young cannon were exercising its lungs for sport, 
the leg of the First Magistrate oscillated up and 
down, and dropped with the emphasis of a pile- 
driver, — for the foot of the lamented President was 
not small. 

The music stopped as Julian came out upon the 
piazza, and the President, hearing his step, looked 
around. Julian hastened to apologize, saying, frankly, 
that he had not expected to find him there, but was 
glad he had, for he must see him before night that 
day. 

“ And why so ? My working-hours are over now, 
and I want to have some rest along with everybody 
else,” said the President, pointing to the crowd on the 
grassy lawn. “ We might not have another fine day 
like this, for out-door music, until the last of May, 
and we might, I think, put off work this afternoon a 
little earlier.” 

“ Mr. President, if it were not a matter of more 
than life, believe me, I would wait until Monday. 
But to-morrow morning, before ten o’clock, I shall 
be disgraced before the Army of the Potomac if you 
do not hear me now. So, as an American who will 
not cast a fellow-citizen down into a mire of disgrace, 
and as a man who will not let a fellow-man perish in 
despair, you must hear me now, at once.” 

“ What is it ?” said the President, letting his dang- 
ling leg stop its swinging and glide gradually on the 
floor, and turning to face Julian squarely. 

“ Mr. President, you have dismissed me from the 
army without a trial, or sentence from a court. I 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


308 

want you to give me a chance to defend myself and 
vindicate my good name. Why have you dismissed 
me ?” 

“ I haven’t dismissed you ; or, at least, I don’t re- 
member. What is your name ?” 

Julian smiled sadly. What bitter philosophy he 
was learning from the leading men of his country ; 
from the Cackles ; from the First Magistrate! Amer- 
ican citizens as individuals , then, had lost the im- 
portance, the sacredness, of old. Now they only 
counted as masses on which leaders might tread to 
stand high, — as masses to be hurled at the cannon’s 
mouth. It seemed to Julian that a case like his 
should be indelibly stamped on the mind of the 
American nation; forever stereotyped there, com- 
mencing with the President, down to the humblest 
peanut-vender ; because a case of dismissal without a 
trial should be so exceptional, of such odious single- 
ness, in the United States, that no one should or 
could forget it. He thought, too, that it was of 
ominous augury for the liberties of the Americans 
if a man who was on the field defending that Union 
loved by all so dearly, exposing his breast to the 
bullets of its enemies, should be dismissed, and the 
case be considered so unimportant, or of so common 
occurrence, that it was immediately forgotten ! 
Rapidly these sad thoughts crossed his mind ; then 
he answered, — 

“ My name is Julian Norval, Mr. President. I 
am lieutenant-colonel of the — th Regiment, and I 
belong to the Sixth Corps.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


309 

“ I remember now something about your being a 
sympathizer with the Secesh.” 

“ Strange sympathy, sir, which is shown by mow- 
ing them down, — the poor, half-clad, half-starved 
fanatics !” 

“ Yes, — something, too, about your saying that I 
had no right to issue the emancipation proclamation, 
and that I am usurping powers, and that some mem- 
bers of my cabinet tyrannize over the people, and 
I let them do it, and I don’t know what else.” 

“ If I had said all that, sir, I think I would still have 
the right to a trial and defense (supposing that such 
utterances are to be considered treason). But I never 
said such things. All that I ever said was that if 
you, being the executive, and not the legislative, did 
not have the right to issue that proclamation, as a 
commander-in-chief of the army now occupying the 
South, you had the right to make the law in the con- 
quered soil. But, I assure you, I paid so little atten- 
tion to this conversation (it passed a year ago) that I 
had forgotten it. I know I only said that much to 
get rid of some of the officers who were discussing 
those things, and pressed me to give my opinion. I 
was about to start on picket-duty ; my saddled horse 
and my orderly were waiting, whilst I ate a hurried 
breakfast. This is all that ever occurred.” 

‘‘Then it has been greatly exaggerated, and on 
Monday I’ll speak to the Secretary of War about it.” 

“Sir, the order dismissing me has been at the 
headquarters of my corps for over a week, and it 
will be published on parade to-morrow morning 


3io 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


unless the general is notified that you rescind it. If 
you do not, I shall be disgraced.” And Julian felt 
sick, and staggered a step or two, and leaned against 
a pillar of the portico. 

“ But now it is late, you see, and the Secretary of 
War and the Adjutant-General have gone home. I 
don’t see what is to be done.” 

“ Then you yourself telegraph to my corps com- 
mander that the order is revoked. Or give me 
authority to telegraph myself that such is the 
fact.” 

‘‘ Very well : say that I rescind the order, and that 
the revocation will be issued on Monday.” 

“ Thank you, sir ! you have saved my life !” said 
Julian, in a husky voice. 

The President, always glad when he had finished a 
disagreeable job, would, no doubt, have told Julian 
some funny anecdote; but Julian, saluting the Presi- 
dent, and repeating his thanks, hurried off to send 
the telegram immediately to his corps commander. 

In less than twenty minutes the words announcing 
that the dismissal was revoked were flying on the 
wires, and Julian then thought of dinner. He went 
to the dining-room, and sat at a table, and for the 
first time since he came from camp knew what he 
put in his mouth, or thought of drinking a glass of 
wine. 

After dinner he met the Honorable Marcus Tullius 
Cicero Cackle, — called, for short, Tool, — and this 
gentleman informed him that both of his distin- 
guished brothers, Beau and Ciss, had gone to New 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

York, which was the reason they had not fulfilled 
their promise to go with Julian to the President’s. 

As Julian walked with Tool Cackle on the hotel 
promenade, he was again the object of unanimous 
admiration. But he was unconscious of it, and, 
without deigning to return one sweet glance, coolly 
left all to go and spend the evening with his dear 
Aunt Lavvy ! 

Whilst Julian talks to Lavvy, we will see what 
they had been doing at home this week so painful to 
him. 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 

“ HOOKER AND SKINNER, SOLICITORS AND ATTORNEYS- 
AT-LAW.” 

The motto heading this chapter is transcribed 
from an inscription over the door next to Major 
Hackwell’s office. 

Hooker and Skinner, solicitors, had a different 
entrance to their office from that of the major’s; but 
there was a secret communication between the two 
offices, which made private transactions very easy 
and convenient for the major, who was a silent partner 
of the firm. 

About a week before Julian went to Washington, 
soon after the major reached his office, Mr. Hooker 
came in through the private passage to the inner room 


312 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


of the three which formed the office of the pur- 
chasing commissary. Mr. Hooker sat close by the 
major, and in a low tone said, — 

“ I have received a very curious letter this morn- 
ing. Who do you think it is from? You’d never 
guess. It is from Isaac Sprig, who writes from 
Mexico, inclosing advertisements which he wants us 
to publish for him. He advertises for a girl found 
among the Colorado Indians. Is there not a young 
lady at Mrs. Norval’s with some such history as that? 
Read what Isaac says.” 

With very shaky fingers the major grasped Isaac’s 
letter, and eagerly read it. 

“Don’t publish these advertisements until I tell 
you. I’ll find out more about our young lady’s his- 
tory, and perhaps we might get the money which 
Isaac says her father will give. I’ll let you know in 
a day or two what I find out.” 

When Mr. Hooker went back to his own office, he 
said to Mr. Skinner, — 

“ Depend upon it, the major is more interested in 
those advertisements than he would own up. He 
shook as if he had the ague when he read Isaac’s 
letter, and his nerves are not weak generally.” 

The major’s nerves were weak all day. That night, 
however, they got in better tone after a talk with the 
madam, sitting close by her in his gorgeous dressing- 
gown. 

After those gallant preliminaries which he so well 
knew how to employ, and when Mrs. Norval was so 
happy sitting by him thinking of their love, the major 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


313 

told her that advertisements for Lola would soon be 
out if they did not stop them. 

The matron was, of course, perfectly terrified. 
Oh, that Lola ! She was always the reptile in the 
innocent paradise of Mrs. Norval ! What was to be 
done ? Oh, Isaac ! Of course no good could come 
of his unnatural liking for foreigners, and of all 
foreigners the last of all, Mexicans ? 

Such were Mrs. Norval’s lamentations, which 
Hackwell wisely permitted to be poured out freely, 
for it suited him that the madam should be made 
perfectly docile by terror. When he saw that she 
already imagined Lola’s father in New York asking 
for Lola’s money, and that she was ready to do 
anything to avert such a catastrophe, he told her 
that if she would advise Lola to be guided by him 
he thought he could yet fix matters so as to avoid 
giving up Lola’s money, — at all events, not until 
she was twenty-one, — even if her father claimed 
her. 

“ But how can you do that ?” 

“ Have you confidence in me ?” 

“ Why, certainly.” 

“ Then leave the matter in my hands and be guided 
by me. All you have to do now is to advise Lola 
to do everything I suggest to her. After breakfast 
to-morrow, I’ll feel my ground and tell her all I 
deem proper. Then when I go down-town you 
speak to her, and if she refuses to trust me after you 
have spoken to her, you can either send me word or 
wait until I come home in the evening.” 

27 


o 


3H 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Soon after, the worthy couple were sleeping in the 
tranquillity of a clear conscience. 

Next morning after breakfast the major approached 
the piano where Lola was practicing. As it was the 
first time he had done this, Lola looked up from her 
music, surprised. 

The major smiled and blandly apologized for inter- 
rupting her, only he had something of importance to 
tell her. Lola stopped playing, and waited to hear 
what he had to say. 

“ Miss Lola, if I could persuade you to dislike me 
less, and have a little more confidence in me, I think 
I could put you in the way of obtaining information 
about your father.” 

“ My father !” exclaimed Lola. 

“ Yes, your father. But you hate and distrust me 
so much that really ” Here he hesitated. 

“ Oh, I shall not hate you ! I don’t hate you ! But 
do tell me how I can hear about him.” 

“ Will you trust me and be guided by me ?” 

“ Indeed I will !” said she, earnestly. 

“ Very well. You may have to go with me in 
person to the office of the men who can give us the 
information. This is unpleasant for a young lady to 
do, as only manded ladies go to such places. But you 
can put on a thick veil, and cover your sweet face, 
and no one need know but what you are old and 
ugly. Would you be willing to pass for that?” 

“ Certainly. You don’t suppose I would hesitate 
to go where I can obtain information about my 
father for fear of being taken for old and ugly ?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


315 


“ And married ?” 

“And married. What do I care for that?” 

“ All right, then. But first I shall endeavor to obtain 
the information myself; and only in case I fail will 
you have to play the role of ugly and old and married. 
I shall let you know this evening what success I 
have. If it is necessary that you go in person, I will 
let you know that also ; but I trust it will not be.” 

It is needless to say that Mr. Hackwell did find it 
necessary that Lola should go in person. That night, 
after a day spent by Lola in the most excruciating 
agony of suspense, she was told by the major that 
the people who had the information refused to impart 
it to any one but the interested party, and to that one 
only on being well identified ; that they were about 
to publish advertisements, but he had begged them 
to wait until to-morrow, as it would be so disagreea- 
ble for her : “ The notoriety of being described in the 
newspapers as found among the Indians, and your 
mother being ” 

“ Hush ! hush ! Of course it would be horrible ! 
No, no! They must not publish any advertisements! 
I’ll go ! Will you go with me ?” 

“Certainly; and I’ll ask Hammerhard to be there 
to identify you.” 

“ Thank you. You are very good.” 

“ And you don’t hate me so much ?” 

“ No, I don’t !” said Lola, laughing ; “ and I am 
going to try to think you are my friend, and love 
you accordingly.” 

The color mounted to Hackwell’s forehead. To 


3 16 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


be told, even in jest, that she was going to try to love 
him, was too sweet to hear composedly. 

“ Very well : I accept the promise; and to-morrow 
you will go with me, and pass for old and ugly and 
married, — will you ? It is hard for one so young 
and beautiful, but ” 

“ Oh, I know it will be an awful sacrifice for one 
so vain as I, but I’ll do it !” 

There was no need of Mrs. Norval’s exhortations 
to induce Lola to trust and be guided by the major. 
Her own anxiety to obtain information about her 
father, and her dread that those horrible adver- 
tisements describing her mother’s capture and life 
among the Indians might come out if she did not go 
in person to stop them, did all that the major wished. 
She was ready to do as he directed. She would go 
with the major next morning, immediately after 
breakfast, and learn all. 

She scarcely slept that night ; and the night seemed 
so long to her. It seemed very long to the major 
also; he, too, wished the day to come. He feared 
something might derange his well-concerted plans. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


317 


CHAPTER X L I X. 

LIEUTENANTS WAGG AND HEAD ENTER THE GRAND 
MONDE. 

The night, although so long to. Lola, was at last 
succeeded by day, — the day in which she would hear 
news from her father. She was too nervous to wait. 
She thought she would write to Julian. A whole 
week had passed without hearing from him. What 
could be the matter ? She jumped out of bed and 
ran about her room in her bare little feet, so pink 
and dimpled. She went to the window to peep out and 
see if the Fifth Avenue w r orld was awake. It was not. 
She opened the register to let the warm air into her 
room^and sat near it to write to Julian. Yes, she would 
tell him the good news ; though, after all, she didn’t 
know much yet. She would leave the letter open to 
finish it when she returned from her trip down- 
town. Meantime, she would tell him about their last 
balls and receptions, and that Mrs. Norval was to give 
her last evening reception, which would terminate 
with a German, that day. 

That was the Saturday on which Julian had his in- 
terview with the President on the portico. 

After writing a long letter, and when she had 
finished her toilette and descended the stairs in 
street-dress, Lola heard the breakfast-bell, and a few 
27* 


3 18 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

minutes afterwards the steps of the other ladies of 
the family, who were coming down-stairs. 

“ What is the matter with us all ?” said the major, 
taking his usual seat opposite to Mrs. Norval. “Are 
we going to turn over a new leaf and be early risers? 
I believe this is the second time in six months I have 
had the pleasure of breakfasting with the Misses 
Norval or Miss Hackwell.” 

“ You may thank my dressmaker for the pleasure 
of breakfasting with me” said Ruth. “ Her ladyship 
sent me word that if she did not try my dress on be- 
fore eleven, she could not finish it by four.” 

“ My case is very similar. Sincerity compels me 
to say that not alone the pleasure of your company 
got me out of my bed,” Sdded Mattie. 

“ I am nevertheless grateful to the circumstance 
which brought you,” the major replied, politely. 
“And you, Em, what made you so smart , — as we say 
in Yankee-land?” 

“ Nothing particular,” Emma answered. 

“ I wonder if our reception will be as brilliant as 
the last?” said Ruth. “ I hope it will; for I want it 
to be better than that of Mrs. Van Kraut. By the 
bye, major, you must come early, and in uniform.” 

“ I see that General and the Hon. Mirabeau Cackle 
arrived yesterday,” said Mrs. Norval, reading the 
newspaper. 

“ That is fortunate, for I shall immediately send 
cards and write them to come,” said Ruth. “ Recep- 
tions always look brilliant when there are many 
officers in their uniforms.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


319 


“ That’s so. Why don’t you bring your two lieu- 
tenants to help the shine with their brass ?” Mattie 
added, addressing the major. 

“Are they good-looking ?” Ruth inquired. 

“ So so,” the major replied. 

“ That is to say, their beauty is as big as a piece 
of chalk ?” Mattie observed. 

“ Just about,” answered the major. 

“Are they agreeable? What are their names? 
Are they accomplished ?” inquired Ruth. 

“ Their names and their accomplishments are about 
the same,” replied the major, with a laugh. 

“ What do you mean ?” Emma asked. 

“ Yes, what do they do ?” asked Ruth. 

“ And what are their names ?” Mattie added. 

“ The name of one is Wagg, Head the other, 
and ” 

“ Wagg-Head, you say ?” interrupted Mattie. 

“ No, one is Wagg, and the other Head ” 

Exclamations and laughter interrupted the major; 
then he continued : 

“ The combination is funny, but their nicknames 
are more so; and if I am to bring them, I had better 
not tell you what these are.” 

“ Oh, yes, yes ; do !” said the young ladies. 

“ You will laugh at them ; and the poor fellows are 
very sensitive about their names.” 

The young ladies promised not to laugh, and the 
major told them the nicknames, which of course 
brought out a burst of laughter from every one, even 
the madam. v 


320 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“Are their names appropriate to their looks and 
dispositions ?” asked Lola. 

“Yes, I think they are. One is sentimental, and 
the other is a wit.” 

“ Sophy is the sentimental and Scaly Wagg the 
wit, I suppose,” said Mattie. 

“Exactly,” the major answered. 

“ I think they must be interesting. Describe them 
a little, major,” said Ruth. 

“ Well, Sophy has a round Dutch face and rounder 
head, both perfectly meaningless. Wagg has greenish, 
protruding eyes, yellow hair, yellow moustache, and 
a chest as flat as a plank. Both are great equestrians 
and lady-killers, only they ride their horses and kill 
the ladies in different ways. One rides a VAnglaise , 
and trots, pounding his horse ; the other rides a la 
Mexicaine , and fJrances. One plays the guitar, and 
sings in foreign languages (which the ladies don’t 
understand), and the other crows like a rooster to 
perfection, and imitates several other sounds, all of 
which constitute his stock in trade with the fair sex.” 

“ I suppose it is Sophy who prances,” said Lola. 

“And Wagg who crows,” added Mattie. 

“ Do they know anybody in town ? I have never 
met them anywhere,” said Ruth. 

“ No, they don’t have many acquaintances. As far 
as I know of their amusements, it seems that when 
Sophy is on duty he stays at home and sings French 
and Italian or Spanish love-songs to the stove and 
the rats about the office ; and when off duty he is 
4 on guard’ near Mrs. Skroo’s person, and that of her 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


321 


red-headed sister. Wagg, when he is off duty, goes 
with Skroo to play poker, to which both he and 
Skroo are very partial ; and when he *is on duty, he 
teaches Sophy to crow, or quack, or bray, or some 
other of his accomplishments, to fool Sophy into 
keeping him company.” 

The young ladies thought the two ex-zouaves 
“lovely,” and made the major promise to bring them 
without fail to their reception. 

Breakfast being over, the ladies hurried to their 
different affairs ; and when no one but Mrs. Norval 
was down-stairs, Hackwell called Lola and told her 
it was time for them to go down-town. 

How the poor child trembled as she got into the 
coupe! The major, too, was visibly agitated. This 
was the first time that he had been alone with Lola 
since she had run away from him in Washington; and 
never, since she was a child, had he been so near her. 

“ I hope you are a good actress,” said he, as soon 
as they started, “ and that, if it is necessary to. pass 
for marriqd, you will act your part well.” 

“ I shall try. But why must I be married, if I only 
have to be my father’s daughter ?” 

“Just to avoid delays, perhaps, as they may wish 
to know who is your guardian, and all that sort of 
thing, before they give you any information. They 
would perhaps require Julian’s presence before they 
said anything; and what we wish particularly is to 
avoid delay and prevent them from advertising. 
When we have obtained the information, I’ll manage 
them ; leave them to me. But they are very sharp, 
o* 


322 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


If we have to pass you for married, suppose you pass 
for Hammerhard’s wife, or the wife of one of my 
lieutenants? But wait. They know Mrs. Hammer- 
hard, and that Wagg and Head are not married.” 

“I’ll have to pass for yozir wife, then,” said Lola,' 
laughing and blushing. 

“ That is a happiness I did not hope to obtain even 
in jest,” said the major, with more truth than he 
generally used in his sayings and doings. 

“ Try to see if we can get the information without 
this marriage farce. I don’t like the idea of it, and I 
think these men ought to give me the information as 
Lola Medina.” 

“ And so they will ; only as my wife you will 
require no further witnesses, which you might, as a 
young lady, if they chose to insist on it. Do you 
understand me ?” 

“I can’t say I do, but I’ll do as you tell me. Mrs. 
Norval told me to obey you implicitly.” 

The major did not wish to give any more 
reasons ; and as soon as he saw that Lola would 
do what he told her, he changed the conversation, 
and tried to divert her mind from the object of their 
drive. This he succeeded in doing ; and, conversing 
on different topics, they arrived in front of the door 
over which were the names of Messrs. Hooker and 
Skinner. 

The major helped Lola out of the coupe, and was 
about to escort her up to Messrs. Hooker and Skinner’s 
office, when he suddenly changed his mind, and said 
to Lola, taking her to the next door, — 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


323 

“ Let us go here first. I’ll leave you here whilst I 
go to ascertain if the gentlemen have come.” 

So saying, they walked up to Major Hackwell’s 
office. Lola, perfectly ignorant as to where she was 
going, followed, — a little nervous, but happy that at 
last she was to hear of her father, and would prevent 
the terrible advertisements from going to tell the 
world, through the columns of a newspaper, the 
shame, the grief, of her adored mother. 


CHAPTER L. 

LOLA HEARS IMPORTANT NEWS. 

Three gentlemen were in the room into which the 
major ushered Lola; two of them were writing, and 
one was reading a newspaper. Lola was so thickly 
veiled that her face could not be seen, but all seemed 
to expect her. She could not distinguish their features 
through her double veil. She asked the major, in a 
whisper, if she could remove it. 

“ Certainly,” said he, presenting a chair to her ; 
then added, “ Do you recognize your old acquaint- 
ance Mr. Hammerhard ?” 

“ Of course I do, although I have scarcely seen 
him since I went away to school,” she replied. 

Mr. Hammerhard advanced to shake hands with 
her; and the major said, coolly addressing the two 


324 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


other gentlemen, who were writing, but who now 
stood up, — 

“ My wife, gentlemen. Lola, Mr. Wagg, Mr. Head, 
my two assistants.” The gentlemen bowed, and Lola 
looked at them and burst out laughing. 

Mr. Hammerhard, in all seriousness, again took 
her hand, calling her “ Mrs. Hackwell,” and con- 
gratulated her on the “ happy event.” 

“ And when did it happen ? I have been West for 
the last month, and I had not heard of this,” he said ; 
and he spoke the truth thus far, — that, as he lived 
west of Fifth Avenue, he had been west — at home. 
The major smiled, saying, — 

“ We have kept it secret, and mean to keep it so 
for some time. So, gentlemen, though it is of no ma- 
terial importance, still I wish you to do me the favor 
not to mention having seen my wife.” 

The gentlemen bowed in assent. 

Lola looked a little alarmed, and blushed very red. 
She looked at Hammerhard; that worthy divine gave 
her a very unclerical, but very encouraging, wink, and 
she felt a little more reassured. Then she looked at 
Sophy and Scaly, and thought of their nicknames and 
idiosyncrasies, and again felt a great desire to laugh, 
and did not dare to speak. 

The major told Mr. Hammerhard to sit by the 
madam , and talk to her ; t*hat he would be back in a 
few minutes. 

He thereupon left the room. In less than ten 
minutes he returned, accompanied by two other 
gentlemen, to whom he said, as soon as he entered, — 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


325 


“ This is the lady, gentlemen and then to Lola, 
“ My dear, these are the gentlemen and he invited 
them to walk into the adjoining room, closing the 
door carefully after all had entered. 

One of the gentlemen, Lola noticed, had a large 
book like an account-book under his arm, and a roll 
of papers in his hand. Very imposing to Lola that 
book and those papers were, and so was the man carry- 
ing them, — he was so villanously ugly. This was 
Mr. Skinner. He stammered painfully : so he always 
let his partner, Mr. Hooker, do all the talking. Mr. 
Hooker had the “ gift of gab” in a high degree, — more 
than would compensate the firm for Mr. Skinner’s 
stammering. He commenced business. 

“ Madam,” said he to Lola, as soon as they were 
seated in the major’s inner office, “we have very im- 
portant information to impart, but first we wish to be 
sure that we impart it to the right person; so you will 
excuse us for making a few inquiries, if you please.” 

“ Certainly,” said Lola, frightened, as she saw Mr. 
Skinner’s dim eyes and coarse big nose aimed at her 
fixedly, whilst he held a pen in his hand over the 
imposing book, as if ready to put down there her 
heart’s pulsations. 

“ What is your name, if you please ?” continued 
Mr. Hooker. 

“ Lola Medina,” she answered. The major coughed 
a little and moved uneasily in his chair ; but she did 
not add anything. 

“ Are you married, or single ?” Lola blushed, but 
hesitated to answer. Mr. Hooker added, “ I do not ask 
28 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


326 

you out of impertinent curiosity, but only for this — that 
if you are single we may have to see your guardian, 
should you be under age; and if you are married, 
then we may have to see your husband. We must 
not only be sure that we have found the right person, 
but we must be sure, too, that this transaction is done 
fairly. Some one has to be responsible to us for our 
remuneration.” 

“ I shall be responsible to you for that,” said the 
major, giving Lola a very expressive look. 

“Yes, the major will answer for that,” said 
she. 

“ Is he related to you in any way ? Is he your 
guardian or your husband ?” 

“Yes, sir, he is my husband,” the poor child replied, 
hurriedly, afraid that if she did not say that, she 
would not hear from her father, and thinking of the 
advertisements. 

“ In that case, of course, we feel no hesitation in 
telling you all we know,” said Mr. Hooker ; and then 
proceeded to tell Lola a long story, the substance of 
which was that a manuscript, which had been dictated 
by her mother and directed to an unknown person, 
had been found (he did not say by whom) and carried 
to Mexico to her father, and that her father was now 
making inquiries for her, and that they — Messrs. 
Hooker and Skinner — guaranteed Lola to put her 
father in the way of coming straight to Fifth Avenue 
to find her. 

“And now, Mrs. Hackwell,” added Mr. Hooker, in 
conclusion, “ please do not accuse me of wanting in 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


327 

courtesy if I again ask you if you are what you tell 
me.” 

“ Of course I am,” said Lola, firmly; “ my name is 
Lola Medina, and Don Luis Medina is my father. I 
remember perfectly well that my mother told me that 
such was his name, and my grandfather’s name is 
Don Felipe de Almenara.” 

“And you are married?” 

“ Ye — es,” answered Lola, blushing. 

“ Oh, do not be afraid that we wish to speak of 
your marriage,” said he. 

“ My dear,” said the major, “the gentlemen might 
doubt you if you hesitate to tell them you are 
married.” 

“ Why should they doubt ? Did I not say I was 
your wife ?” 

This last answer seemed to satisfy all the gentle- 
men, for they bowed and rose to leave. 

Mr. Hammerhard also bade them good-morning. 
The major and Lola were left alone. 

“ You dislike me so much, that even to obtain this 
information you hated to pass for my wife,” said the 
major, in a mournful tone, standing in front of Lola, 
with arms folded over his breast in Napoleonic style. 

“ No, I don’t hate you, but I hate to tell a story,” 
said Lola, blushing again. 

“ Lola, how I do worship you ! I know it is mad- 
ness, but I can’t help it ; you are my destiny, you are 
the only woman I ever did or ever shall love.” 

Lola looked at the door, alarmed. 

“ Do not be afraid. Let us go. I shall not be so 


328 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


mean as to take advantage of your coming here 
under my protection to torture you with expressions 
of a love so disagreeable to you.” And the major 
walked towards the door to open it. 

Lola laid her hand on his arm. She felt very 
sorry she could not be more grateful to him than she 
was, and thought she would at least show that she 
did not wish to hurt his feelings after his rendering 
her a great service. 

“ You are not angry with me?” said she : “please 
don’t be. Indeed, I appreciate your kindness.” 

He looked at the little hand lying on his arm; he 
took it, and, as it was gloved, he kissed the little wrist 
with avidity many times. 

“ Oh, Lola ! my darling angel ! Can I ever hope? 
It seems to me I am capable of doing anything to 
obtain your love. It is burning my very soul. You 
must be mine, somehow or other.” 

“ Let us go, major; I cannot stay to hear you talk 
so,” Lola said, opening the door herself. 

When they came out in the street, he was pale and 
agitated, and Lola was afraid to ride with him. She 
told him she would take an omnibus, as she wished 
to do some shopping before going home. 

“ No, you get in the coupe ; I don’t mean to force 
my company upon you. I shall remain. Good- 
morning.” 

“We will see you early this evening, and your two 
specimens of humanity, I suppose?” 

“ Yes, I shall take them if they’ll amuse you,” he 
replied, bowing to Lola, as he closed the door. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


329 


CHAPTER LI. 

MADEMOISELLE MINA’S ACCIDENT. 

“By Jove, Ham, I feel shaky!” said the major, 
returning to the office of Hooker and Skinner, where 
his three confederates waited for him, and had watched 
from the window the ceremony of his escorting Lola 
with great deference to her coupe, and closing the 
door of it with a most profound bow. 

“Allow me to congratulate you on this last coup- 
d'etatp said Hammerhard. “ You beat Prince Poll- 
nitz ; for he made marriages for others, whilst you 
make them for yourself.” 

“Hush, Ham. No frivolity just now; it is too 
serious. She repeated twice that she was my wife: 
didn’t she, Mr. Skinner?” 

“ Ye — ye — yes, to — to — twice. I — I — I not — tis 
— ticed it par — par — part — ti — tic — cu — cu — cu — cu 
— cu ” 

“ Particularly,” interposed Mr. Hooker; “ and, as we 
have done our part and given your wife information 
so valuable, I hope you are satisfied, major, and will 
now close our agreement.” 

“ Certainly, certainly,” answered the major. “ Sprig 
says in his letter that Don Luis Medina will give ten 
thousand dollars. Well, 'as a member of our firm I 
have my share of that. I’ll give up my share to you 
28* 


330 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


three, and two thousand besides, so that you will 
have twelve thousand to divide among you. But, 
mind ! if I have to make fight, I shall require you to 
appear as my witnesses. Julian is a stubborn boy, 
and terribly smitten.” 

“ Of course we shall be your witnesses; but if you 
can manage the business without going to law, I 
shall like it better,” said Mr. Hammerhard. 

“ So will I,” added Mr. Hooker. 

Mr. Skinner opened and shut his mouth and 
gasped, which might have meant that he was of the 
same opinion. 

After a half-hour more of innocent converse, the 
four partners separated, apparently highly pleased 
with their transaction. 

* * ***** * 

The reception at the Norval mansion that evening, 
Mrs. Grundy said, was the most brilliant that had 
been given in New York city that season. Mrs. Nor- 
val surpassed herself and everybody else, in the mag- 
nificence of her entertainment. Everything was in 
the richest style, — the rooms, the table, the dresses, etc. 

Mrs. Norval came down-stairs to receive her guests 
robed in a rich lilac velvet trimmed with point 
d’Alen^on. No one could have recognized in this 
superbly-dressed lady the gawky girl the doctor saw 
for the first time counting the eggs to send to mar- 
ket, nor the rigid Puritan who had scorned the 
frivolity of lace or a bit of ribbon around her neck. 
Mrs. Norval looked young for her years. If in 
earlier life she could have felt the passions to which 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


331 


now she was a constant prey, — her ambition, her re- 
morse, her bitter hatred for Lola, her blind love for 
Hackwell, — she might now have been an old, old 
woman. But the cold selfishness and unloving im- 
passibility of her previous nature had preserved her 
young, as the ice she used to put around her turkeys 
to pack them for the Boston market kept those fowls 
fresh, though she made it a rule to “ do her killing” 
a week before Thanksgiving-day and a week before 
Christmas. She had had only one passion, — her re- 
ligious bigotry, — which had inspired her with a strong 
hatred towards everything and everybody that was 
not Presbyterian. She had felt but one ambition, — that 
of saving, saving, saving, — putting away more pennies 
and five- and ten-cent pieces than any of her neigh- 
bors. Aside from these two feelings, which alone 
could be said to have had in her strength enough to 
be called passions, there had been no other to shake 
her soul. Her life had flowed smoothly on in peace- 
ful current, without any other disturbance than an 
occasional ripple caused by some unsuccessful revolt 
of the doctor, or some escapade of the truant Isaac. 
So it was that her soul only warmed into life under 
the Promethean breath of Hackwell; and it leaped 
from its lethargy like those lizards imbedded for ages 
in granite, which geologists say resuscitate when 
brought to the sun and air. And there was she now, 
majestically bowing to her obsequious guests. 

The young ladies of the family were also richly 
dressed on this last grand reception, all except Lola. 
Her simple costume consisted of a white tarletan 


332 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


dress, with bunches of forget-me-nots in her hair. 
Mrs. Norval as yet had given her none of her 
jewelry. 

As she and Emma descended from their rooms in 
the third floor, they met Ruth coming out from hers 
in the second, followed by three other young ladies 
richly attired, who had come “ to receive with the 
Misses Norval.” They saluted Emma with warm 
kisses, and bowed to Lola very coolly; then all 
stopped in the hall to comment on each other’s 
dresses and admire themselves before a large mirror 
placed in front of the stairs. All eyed Lola, but said 
nothing to her. 

“ Why, Lola, you look perfectly lovely !” exclaimed 
Mattie, coming out of her room. “ But why haven’tyou 
any jewelry, — at least ear-rings ? Ah, I know !” And 
she ran into her mother’s room, and returned bring- 
ing a pearl necklace and ear-rings, which, in spite of 
Lola’s resistance, she clasped on her neck and fast- 
ened in her ears, saying, — 

“ This is the prettiest girl in these United States. 
No wonder my poor brother wishes the rebs may 
shoot him if he can’t have her.” 

“And you might shoot us all; for, as the major 
says, you are a perfect blunderbuss,” said Ruth, 
irritated. 

“ Dearest Rooty, if you had any good looks ‘ to 
speak of l you wouldn’t mind my blunderbussing about 
them. 'But the trouble is, that you haven’t, sister 
mine ; I am sorry to blunderbuss that to you. And 
as for the major, I know where the shoe pinches his 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


333 


reverence, and if he wishes it I’ll blunderbuss him 
the spot. Talk of Spanish women being dark ! Can 
anything be whiter than Lola’s neck and shoulders ?” 
added Mattie, addressing all. 

“ Lola is not Spanish ; she is Mexican,” said 
Ruth. 

“ I think Lola might teach us the secret of that 
Indian paint that kept her white skin under cover, 
making it whiter by bleaching it. I would bargain 
to wear spots for awhile,” said Emma. 

“And well you might; for a freckled neck is no 
beauty ; and easy to please must be he who will kiss 
a freckled hand,” Mattie replied. 

The voice of Mrs. Norval calling them down-stairs 
happily interrupted their dialogue, and in silence they 
descended. * 

When they entered the drawing-rooms, several 
friends had already arrived ; among them were Mr. 
and Mrs. Hammerhard, who had driven up in a hand- 
some carriage, very different indeed from the squeak- 
ing vehicle of yore, owned conjointly by the two 
poor parsons. 

The two Generals Cackle were also there, resplendent 
in brass buttons and smiles. And now the stream of 
elegance poured in, bringing princely speculators, 
military celebrities, fashionable belles, and all half 
smothered by shoddy. Major Hackwell came too, 
as he promised, followed by his two lieutenants, whom 
he duly presented to the ladies of the family. They 
were politely received, but soon found very uninterest- 
ing. They could not shine advantageously there, as 


334 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Wagg could not crow or neigh in the midst of this 
elegant assembly, nor Head sing in impossible Italian. 
They were soon forgotten behind a door. 

“ I say, Head, wouldn’t I throw a bombshell in the 
midst of this gay bivouac if I were to peach about 
the major’s farce of this morning, eh? Wouldn’t I 
like it, though ? I’d like to see the rascal’s face, and 
the young lady’s too,” said Wagg. 

“ There you are again, suspecting that good man,” 
said Head, reproachfully. “ But hush ! here comes 
his wife,” he added, seeing Lola come towards them. 
She was the only person who had taken any notice 
of them ; she came to invite them to the dining-room 
to partake of refreshments. There she left them under 
the care of the head-waiter, and ran up-stairs to her 
room. 

She wished to be alone. The unkind words of 
Ruth and Emma were still ringing in her ears, and 
had taken away all desire for gayety. If she had had 
more of her sex’s vanity, she would have consoled 
herself, seeing that those cruel words had also added 
brilliancy to her beauty by heightening her color and 
making her black eyes dazzling in their glorious lustre. 
But Lola did not think of looking in the glass. 
Straightway she went up to Julian’s picture to talk to 
it. Then she prayed to the Virgin Mary for the doctors 
return, and fell to weeping, as she often did when 
harshness recalled to her mind more vividly her lone- 
liness, making her feel more keenly the loss of her 
kind protector. She had been for some time lost in 
sad thoughts, forgetful of the gayety down-stairs, 


WHO WOULD HAV& THOUGHT IT? 


335 

when angry voices calling her name close to her door 
roused her from her reverie. 

“ Who wants me ?” said she, opening the door; and 
as she did so she beheld Major Hackwell and Lieu- 
tenant Head wrestling by the door of Emma’s room, 
which was next to hers. Livid with rage, the major 
was endeavoring to wrest Lieutenant Head from the 
door-knob, to which that chivalric zouave, flushed 
with champagne and native heroism, clung resolutely 
with one hand, in desperate effort to keep the door 
closed, whilst with the other arm he warded off the 
major’s blows and prevented his approach to the door. 
At the sound of Lola’s voice the major turned quickly 
around, and his hands relinquished their furious hold 
on his lieutenant, and his arms fell powerless at his 
side. 

“ I will defend the lady with my life !” shouted 
Head. 

“ There is a door between Em’s room and yours, 
isn’t there ? Speak quickly, and tell the truth,” said 
the major to Lola, imperatively. 

She, however, first surveyed him from head to foot 
with a derisive smile that made her dimples very 
saucy, then slowly answered, — 

“ No, sir, there is not.” 

The major thundered louder, — 

“ How, then, did you get through ? or who is the 
lady?” 

“ Which lady ?” said Mrs. Norval, appearing at 
that moment at the head of the stairs, followed by 
Ruth and Lieutenant Wagg. “ I heard your voice in 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT ! 


33 6 

the dining-room, major, calling Lola very loud,” said 
she. 

Quick as a flash the major saw his position. He 
answered, — 

“ I thought there was a communication between 
these two rooms, and I was calling Lola to go into 
Emma’s room to see who is the woman my worthy 
lieutenant is hiding there. I think it is that little 
grisette, Ruth’s servant.” 

“ I am no ‘ grisette,’ sir, nor a ‘ servant,’ ” said Mina, 
opening the door and confronting the major. “ You 
are angry with me because you mistook me for 
Mademoiselle Lola, and you wish to insult me.” 

“ Hush this instant, and go to your room,” said 
Mrs. Norval. “ If you are not a proper girl, I shall 
not permit you to remain as my daughter’s servant; 
for a servant you are.” 

“ A servant !” exclaimed Head, aghast* — “a 
servant !” 

“A servant r repeated Mina; and stepping nearer 
Mrs. Norval and shaking her fist close to that 
matron’s nose, she said, “A real lady never calls a 
waiting-maid a 1 servant /’ only women whom we call 
parvenu in Europe do so.” 

“ You may call servants countesses in Europe, and 
free grisettes ladies; but we don’t do so in America, 
and we expect servants to know their places,” said 
Ruth. 

“ The ladies don’t know theirs any better,” retorted 
Mina. 

“ That’ll do,” said the major, pushing Mina towards 


WHO WOULD HAVE. THOUGHT IT? 


337 


the stairs leading to the garret. “ Go where you 
belong.” 

“ You wish to send me off because you are afraid 
I shall repeat to madame what you said, thinking I 
was Mademoiselle Lola. You said, * I rather die than 
see this and then you said ” 

“ That it was likely Miss Lola would behave like 
a- grisette,” interrupted the major, “and allow my 
second lieutenant to put his arm around her waist ; 
for such was the situation when I came.” 

“ Mina does look like Lola, decked in that cast- 
off old finery,” said Ruth, pointing at Mina’s dress 
which was one given to her by Lola. 

Mina’s eyes flashed at Ruth ; but she answered 
the major’s imputation, that being the more offensive. 
She said, addressing Mrs. Norval, — . 

“ No, madame, that is not true. I was standing by 
the bath-room door when Monsieur ’Ead came out 
from the dining-room and saw me refflected in the 
mirror in the upper hall, and came to salute me.” 

“A French way of saluting,” interrupted the major. 
Mina continued, — 

“ Very soon after, monsieur the major came run- 
ning up-stairs, abusing Monsieur ’Ead. I was fright- 
ened, and ran to ’ide myself in the nearest room. 
As I entered the door, I ’eard the major say, ‘ I saw 
you in the mirror, Lola ! this is infamous !’ Then 
I ” 

“ Then you have lied enough, and should be dis- 
charged from a service you can only disgrace by 
your lies,” said the major, 
p 29 


338 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ You — a — monster — a — a — horrible man ” 

said Mina; and, overcome by the impetuosity of her 
anger, she fell forward, fainting. 

“She is drunk,” said the major; and a new expe- 
dient suggested itself to his mind to extricate himself 
from his awkward position. “ Wagg, call two waiters 
to carry this woman to her room.” 

Lola, who had caught Mina’s form as it fell, said, — 

“ No, sir, don’t call servants. Lieutenant Head, 
you and your friend will please help me to carry the 
poor child to my room. I’ll take care of her until 
she regains consciousness.” 

“ Bah !” ejaculated Ruth, running down-stairs. 

“Birds of a feather flock together,” said Mrs. 
Norval, following her daughter. 


CHAPTER L 1 1. 

JULIAN AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 

Julian was not so fortunate as he had anticipated ; 
and whilst his mother and sisters gave brilliant enter- 
tainments, he passed miserable nights. 

Five days had elapsed since his interview with the 
President, and he had not been able to learn whether 
the dismissal was or was not officially rescinded. He 
passed in and out, and saw anxious faces, — those of 
sad-looking ladies more particularly, — patiently wait- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


339 


ing day by day. “ Can they be the same people ?” 
Julian thought. “They all have the same weary 
expression. Yes, they must be the same, or else 
there are more miserable people in this land than I 
had any idea of. Why should they not be the same? 
Have I not waited days and days with a halter around 
my neck ?” 

Friday came, and, that being cabinet-day, it offered 
but small hope of his seeing the President. Still, 
Julian went, and sent in his card. 

“The President is too busy,” said the usher; and 
Julian knew it was useless to spend the day waiting. 

That night he again examined his little five-shooter, 
— a present from Major Hackwell, — and sat down to 
write two telegrams : one to his corps-commander 
asking him to wait a little longer, and another to his 
own adjutant to send him any letters which might have 
come to camp for him since he left, — to send them by 
that night's mail, so that he might get them next day. 

“ Oh, I hope there may be a letter from Lola !” 
said the miserable Julian, as he threw himself on his 
bed. 

Saturday dawned. Julian felt that on this day his 
fate had reached a turning-point. It was a bright 
morning in the early part of April. If the President 
did not see him (thought Julian) he would go to his 
own Senator and demand justice. He would not rely 
for co-operation or support on any Cackle. On that 
he had resolved. And if he failed ! He shuddered 
as he thought of the little five-shooter he carried so 
close to his heart, and despair darkened his soul. 


340 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“You should know who is your calumniator, and if 
you plunge into eternity he should go before you,” 
whispered one of those “ unbottled imps” which un- 
seen walk alongside of people at times like a persist- 
ent little beggar that will have his penny. Julian 
tried to reason with the little imp, as will a harassed 
pedestrian, protesting that he has no change, and he 
argued that in this free country calumniators have 
no trade ; they have no power to disgrace and ruin 
an honest man; the fountains of justice are not dry 
or poisoned in this free land ; underhanded persecu- 
tion is abhorrent to the American mind, argued 
he. “ Why, then, are you dismissed without a trial ? 
And why is it that you, an American citizen and a 
patriot defending your country, can’t even see the 
guardian of the people ?” said the persistent little 
invisible. Julian clinched his fists and set his teeth 
close together, as he perceived that the imp was 
getting the best of the argument, and, pale with 
suppressed emotion, he walked up the steps of the 
Executive mansion. So absorbed was his attention 
with his unseen interlocutor, that he did not notice 
three gentlemen who approached the steps from the 
other side of the semicircle of the front entrance, 
until one of them, putting his hand on his shoulder, 
said, — 

“ Why, Julian, my boy ! what makes you so pale ? 
Have you been sick ?” 

Julian turned, and saw that Mr. Sinclair, his father’s 
best friend, was speaking to him, and that with him 
were Senator and General Cackle. They all 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


341 

shook hands very cordially with Julian, and the Sen- 
ator also asked him if he was sick. 

“ I am sick, — yes, sick of waiting,” Julian answered. 
“No courtier of Louis XIV. of France, or serf of the 
Russian Emperor, could have waited more assiduously 
than I, a free-born American, have waited (with some- 
body’s foot upon my free-born neck), in vain hope of 
seeing his absolute excellency the President, who 
we are told is ‘ the servant of the people,’ and treats 
gentlemen as if he had bought them, branded them, 
and was sure they will not stray from his pasture- 
grounds. Surely we Americans have got to be great 
liars, or else some fearful lies are being told to us.” 

The three gentlemen looked at one another, and 
then looked around them to see if any one was near 
enough to have heard the reckless boy express him- 
self so imprudently. 

“ Do not fear for me, gentlemen,” said Julian, with 
a laugh, and as if amused at their terror; “there 
are depths of misery in which a wretch can feel per- 
fectly secure. I have reached that depth. I am down 
in a deep well, where I need not be afraid that sun- 
shine can reach me, any more than sticks thrown 
at me. I feel perfectly secure. Only a dim instinct 
of what is due to others, and a faint memory of what 
I was, impel me to make one last effort to-day. But 
I assure you I feel perfectly independent; I will 
say what I please. No one can do me any more 
harm jiozv” 

The Senator took Julian’s arm and placed it under 
his own, then drew the boy towards the door. As 
* 29* 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


342 

they went in, he turned to Mr. Sinclair and the general, 
saying,— 

“You go up to the President; I shall follow in a 
short time. First I must speak with Julian; there 
is something wrong with him.” And, holding J ulian’s 
arm tightly, as if afraid that the crazy boy might take 
a notion to run away, he went into the East Room, 
taking his prisoner to the recess of the farthest win- 
dow in the spacious room. Here, seating himself, 
he made Julian sit by him and tell him his sad story, 
to which he listened with the closest attention, his 
dark bright eyes shooting out a flash now and then. 

“ Why didn’t you come to me as soon as you 
arrived in Washington ?” asked the Senator. 

“ Because I trusted from day to day that I would 
see the President, and that the thing would be ar- 
ranged ; and — to tell you the truth — because I hated 
to speak about it, or to think that any one of my 
friends should know of my disgrace.” 

“ Disgrace ! Pooh ! pooh ! What are you talking 
about ? Disgrace can be brought upon us only by 
our own acts. And, what is more, a man who has 
fought for his country as you have, and only brought 
honor to his nation as you have, can’t be disgraced 
because he is accused; and he sha’n’t be, either, whilst 
I can prevent it; and prevent it I will. Come, you 
shall see the President at once.” So saying, the 
Senator again took possession of Julian’s arm, and 
walked up-stairs to the President’s room with him. 

Besides Mr. Sinclair and General Cackle, the Sena- 
tor and Julian found two other gentlemen with the 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


343 


President. These gentlemen Julian knew by name; 
and by a description which Lavvy had made of them, 
he recognized them with feelings of anything but 
pleasure. 

In their presence Julian felt great repugnance to 
speak of his case. But the President, who always 
regarded squeamishness as entirely unnecessary, 
when he had answered the salutation of the Senator, 
turned to Julian, saying, — 

“Your case is pretty bad, colonel. So, at least, 
these two high officials say.” 

A flash shot from Julian’s eyes as he looked towards 
the gentlemen pointed to by the President and des- 
ignated by him as “ high officials .” He replied, with 
firm voice, and averting his gaze from them, — 

“ At least, I can be tried by court-martial, I sup- 
pose. When I entered the army, I did not imagine 
I had surrendered the right which our institutions 
give to thieves and murderers even, — the right of 
defending themselves, the right of trial. That right 
I, as an American citizen, — for I am an American 
citizen, Mr. President, by the grace of God, — that 
right I demand, and you can’t deny it to me, for I 
only ask for common justice!” 

“ Of course you can have a trial ; at least, I suppose 
so, — can’t he ?” said the amiable President (wishing 
to please everybody), looking towards the high 
officials, both of whom were now very busy looking 
at some papers in the recess of a window, where 
they had stepped when Julian began to speak. With 
evident displeasure at having the President ask their 


344 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


opinion, one of the two, the dark one, — the other 
was blond, — answered, whilst the other continued to 
read, — 

“ You can judge as well as we, Mr. President, since 
you are acquainted with the case.” 

The President turned to Julian, and said, — 

“ It seems that, besides your criticising my right 
to issue the emancipation proclamation, colonel, you 
have been abusing me for suspending the habeas 
corpus. I don’t care, so far as I am concerned, how 
I am criticised or abused; But such a way of talking 
is very injurious to the discipline of an army, and 
very mischievous anywhere in times like the present.” 

“Abusing you for suspending the habeas corpus?” 
said Julian, musingly, trying to remember when or 
where he had ever expressed any opinion on the 
subject. “ I pledge you my word, I never did such 
a thing.” 

“ Such is the report,” said the President. 

“And who is my accuser? As we can’t possibly 
have established the old Spanish Inquisition in the 
United States, I suppose I can know who accuses 
me ?” 

The Senator was afraid that Julian, in his reckless 
despair, would utterly ruin his case: so he said, — 

“ I think there is a mistake in the man, Mr 
President. It was the colonel’s father, Dr. Norval, 
who was a very uncompromising Democrat,- and it 
was reported he spoke against suspending the habeas 
corpus, and other things. I think they have mixed 
up the two men.” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


345 


It was fortunate that the Senator thought of this 
probability, for it gave the good-natured Executive 
an excellent chance to settle more gracefully a case 
which might become disagreeable, as Julian was 
evidently disposed to make fight. But it was a very 
painful ordeal for Julian. He loved his father with 
almost the tenderness of a girl, and since the fearful 
report of his death, though he did not credit it, he 
could not hear him mentioned without the most 
profound emotion of tender love and acute pain, for 
a crowd of doubts and fears rushed on his heart. 
When the Senator mentioned the doctor, the expres- 
sion of intense pain was so marked in the pale, 
handsome face of Julian, and his vain effort to mas- 
ter his feelings was so evident, that every one noticed 
it. He looked down; he clinched his fingers; his 
breast heaved with swelling emotion ; but he stood 
like a good soldier, erect and immovable, as he had 
stood facing the fire of the desperate Southerners. 

“ Very likely it is as you say, Senator,” said the 
President, looking towards the high officials , as if anx- 
ious to ascertain their opinion. But they “ gave no 
sign;” and the President continued, “And the colonel 
has been mistaken for his father. I shall make in- 
quiries, colonel; and if it is as the Senator says, of 
course then your case is quite different from what 
has been reported.” 

Julian’s pale face flushed, and the deep blue of his 
eyes looked black as he stepped nearer to the Presi- 
dent, and, in a voice in which there was a slight 
tremor, but great firmness, said, — 

p* 


346 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

“ Mr. President, I told you a week ago to-day that 
if the order of my dismissal was not rescinded, it 
would be published on the following morning. The 
publication has been Suspended for a whole week, 
because, by your authority, I telegraphed to my 
corps-commander that you annulled the order, and 
that it would be so announced to him by letter. 
Nothing has been done since ; and if my statement 
is not confirmed by your authority, or that of the 
Secretary of War, I fear the general will not feel 
authorized in delaying any longer. Therefore, if on 
this very day you do not cause my dismissal to be 
formally rescinded, to-morrow it may be too late. 
I do not ask you to do this with any intention of 
urging my services upon the government ; on the 
contrary, as soon as you revoke my dismissal, I shall 
be glad to resign. But I am an honest man, Mr. 
President, and I should feel very great shame at 
being sent from the army in disgrace.” 

There was an awkward pause. The President 
broke it, saying, — 

“ I don’t think the order will be published to- 
morrow; and we will see about your case leisurely 
on Monday.” 

“No, Mr. President! now or never! The order 
once published, I do not care to have it withdrawn,” 
said Julian, hurriedly, interrupting the Senator, who 
was about to speak. 

“Why, young man, do you wish to dictate to the 
President?” said one of the two officials , — the blond 
one. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


34 7 


“ No, sir, I would be sorry if my words even seem 
to want in respect But I feel I have a right to de- 
fend myself; and since a proper trial is denied or 
withheld from me, and there is no chance to vindi- 
cate my good name, I must endeavor to show to the 
President that there is no time to be lost if he would 
do me justice. I repeat,” — said he, now addressing 
the President again, — “ I have no wish to force my 
services upon a government that casts them and me 
off. But I must not be sent away branded, dis- 
graced. Give me a trial, or rescind the order. It 
is but simple justice ; and I pledge you my word 
that in either case I shall not continue services so 
little wanted ; I shall resign immediately, but ac- 
quitted 

“ But we don’t want you to resign. Our State is 
proud of you ; for no one has fought more nobly for 
the Union, colonel,” said the Senator. 

“ And see how a grateful country rewards me !” 
said Julian, with curling lip. 

“ The President will see you righted, for I repeat 
that your State speaks with pride of you.” 

“If my State is proud of me, that is one more 
reason why I should leave the service ; for, I assure 
you, I shall never again feel the enthusiasm for my 
flag I have felt heretofore. I have fought, thinking 
myself a free man fighting for freedom ; and I awake 
from my dream to find that I do not have even the 
privilege granted to thieves and cutthroats. And 
these straps,” said he, trying to pull one off his 
shoulder, — “these, I thought the insignia of honor; I 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


348 

find that they are the. mark of slavery, of proscrip- 
tion ; for if I had committed murder or vile theft 
without them, I would still be a citizen, and have the 
right to defend myself. But, as I have them, I am a 
Pariah. No, I must resign. I wish to have my free- 
dom. If the negroes have it, why shouldn’t I ? I 
did not bargain to surrender my freedom to give it to 
Sambo. But this affair must be settled first. Dis- 
graced I will not be. If I have served my country 
with sufficient credit to entitle me to any favor from 
my State, all I ask is justice, and the protection 
which our free institutions give to every one under 
our flag.” 

Nothing could have been more injudicious than 
Julian’s speech, and he knew it. But he was in 
despair, and very angry. He was surprised that 
he was not ordered out of the room, though he re- 
turned defiantly the indignant looks of the high officials. 
He was surprised, too, that the President seemed 
thoughtful, but not angry. 

The Senator, though evidently pained by the unfor- 
tunate turn Julian had given to the alffair, said, in a 
firm voice, — 

“Your State will certainly give you all the protec- 
tion and support she is always happy to accord 
to her meritorious sons. But this matter the Presi- 
dent, I am sure, can arrange at once by telegraph. 
I suppose, Mr. President, you can telegraph now that 
the dismissal is entirely revoked, can’t you ? I am 
sure there is nothing against Colonel Norval. At all 
events, you can suspend the order and call a court of 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


349 


inquiry or court-martial to investigate his case, or 
try him.” 

“ Good-morning, Mr. President,” said the high offi- 
cials, going. The blond added, “We will return this 
evening when you will be disengaged.” 

The President followed them to the door. 


CHAPTER L 1 1 1. 

Julian’s fortunes take a new turn. 

The door remained ajar as the President went out, 
and Julian saw that the Hon. Beau Cackle had joined 
the group talking near it. But he could not hear 
what they were saying. The Senator, being nearer, 
heard the President say, “ I think it is best to let it go; 
it don’t amount to anything even if he said it, which 

is doubtful, and the delegation might take it 

up. The Senator was in earnest.” The high officials 
were apparently of a different opinion, but when the 

President asked Beau if he did not think the 

delegation would take the case into their own hands if 
the Senator insisted on it, and Beau said, “ They will 
certainly do it,” then the high officials concluded it 
was best to let Julian off that time ; and the President 
returned to the room, followed by Beau, who shook 
hands with Julian cordially. Julian regarded his 
empressement with supreme contempt. 

The President resumed his seat, and, putting ovei 
3 ° 


350 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


the arm of the chair his long leg, which immediately 
began its oscillatory movement, he said to Julian, — 

“ I suppose if I telegraph now to your corps-com- 
mander, colonel, that I revoke the order, the affair will 
be arranged to your satisfaction at once ?” 

“Yes, sir,” Julian answered. 

The President drew his chair nearer to the table, 
took his glasses out of their case, put them on his 
prominent nose, and, again hanging his leg over the 
arm of his chair, wrote a telegram himself. 

“ Here it is,” said he, when he had finished writing, 
handing the dispatch to Julian, who took it and 
bowed, saying, — 

“ Shall I carry it to the War Office ?” 

“Yes; give it to the Adjutant-General, and tell him 
to forward it immediately; and do you wait there for 
the answer. Let us finish the business now.” 

Julian again bowed, and left the room. He went 
down-stairs to the vestibule, to the front portico, and 
took his way across the grounds to a little gate, 
and, through it, into the grounds of the War Depart- 
ment. 

As he went down-stairs, he again noticed in the 
East Room quite a number of distressed-looking 
people, among whom were some of his old acquaint- 
ances of ten days past, who had kept him company 
in his sad anxious hours. These poor people — all — 
all — looked weary with waiting. And to think that 
many must, after that long suspense, go away disap- 
pointed, made the sympathetic heart of Julian feel for 
them. There were some ladies, too, in deep mourn- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT ? 


351 


ing, and in widows’ caps, and with dim red eyes, the 
lustre of which had all been wept away ! They were 
waiting, perhaps, for a little pittance, called a pension , 
to help them to starve ; a little pittance which Con- 
gress, in its fits of economy, grudges them so cruelly, 
to give in the next hour hundreds of millions to 
rich monopolists. Or perhaps the poor things had 
sons dismissed and disgraced, calumniated and per- 
secuted ; or a father killed or prisoner ; or a brother 
turned out of office to starve with a large family, 
because it had been reported at the War Office that 
he sympathized with rebels, — because he had been 
heard to express opinions which he, as an American, 
had been proud of all his life ! 

Julian grew heart-sick at the thought of these poor 
people and their sad faces, and the prospect of being 
freed from the horrible obloquy so terrible to him to 
think of, did not cheer him. He was disenchanted. 
He acknowledged that to himself, and felt that it 
would take a long time before he should again believe 
that in America there is not as much despotism as 
in Europe, — “ despotism of a worse kind, because we 
pretend so loudly the contrary. If we didn’t say so 
much about freedom, the thing wouldn’t be so bad. 
We are hypocrites and impostors besides,” said the 
embittered Julian, walking towards the War Office. 
“ We are living on the credit of our fathers and 
squandering the inheritance of liberty left to us; but 
we want to humbug posterity by loudly insisting 
that we have greater riches, more freedom.” He 
laughed. “ Here I am at the Juggernaut temple,” 


352 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


he said, in a louder tone than that of the previous so- 
liloquy, and he entered the War Office. 

The dispatch was sent the minute the Adjutant- 
General received it, and Julian sat down to wait for 
'•the answer, which he was told would return in ten 
minutes if the general was in his tent, or, if not, so 
soon as he should be found about camp. 

Julian took a newspaper to read whilst waiting; but 
scarcely had he cast his eyes over the columns of 
it and read the few headings, when the general’s 
answer arrived. 

“It is all right, colonel,” said the adjutant; “the 
order is rescinded. Allow me to congratulate you.” 

“ But had it been published?” Julian inquired. 

“ No, I don’t think it had. I’ll ask.” 

But whilst they were walking towards the telegraph 
desk, another dispatch came ticking through the 
wires. They stopped to wait until it was finished. 
The operator wrote it and handed it to Julian. It 
was from his corps-commander, and said, — 

“ I congratulate you. It is all right. Nothing has 
been published. I reviewed your brigade this morn- 
ing. It is in splendid order. No hurry for your re- 
turn. We will not march for ten days, until the 
Lieutenant-General comes.” 

Julian heaved a sigh of relief. He felt as if he had 
for years been bent down under a heavy load, almost 
crushed under its weight; and now it was off. 

He thanked the adjutant, and slipped a twenty- 
dollar note on the sly to the operator, thanking him 
too. Then he left, taking the answer to the President. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


353 

As he stepped out in the hall, a clerk came up to 
him with two letters, saying, — 

“ These have been here for some time, colonel.” 

Julian took the letters, and, without noticing the 
handwriting on the envelopes, put them in the breast- 
pocket of his coat. This, however, made him think 
that the letters he had telegraphed to be sent from 
camp must now have arrived and be waiting for 
him at his hotel. He hurried to the White House, 
with thoughts quite different from those he had had 
when coming. He was now thinking of Lola, and 
that thought made everything lovely. 

Julian had been away a little more than half an hour, 
and in that short space of time what a revolution had 
taken place in his fortunes ! He had left, trembling 
lest he should be too late; for his dismissal, might 
have been published, and, though it were revoked, 
would nevertheless be publicly known. Now, when 
he returned, he was met with congratulations from 
Mr. Sinclair, Beau Cackle, and the Senator, which 
he did not well understand, as he had not yet 
given to the President the answer to his telegram. 
But the Senator soon explained why they con- 
gratulated him, by putting a paper in his hand and 
saying,— 

“ Here, my young friend. The government whose 
service you wished to leave because you thought it 
would not do you justice, has done more, — has 
rewarded your merit, as it always will. This is a 
commission of colonel, which the President has just 
given you.” 


354 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Julian’s surprise was such that for a few moments 
he could not find words to express his thanks to the 
President. But when he did so, his sincerity was so 
genuine that it could not be doubted. The President 
certainly believed it, and it pleased his kind heart to 
see that he had in a measure made amends for the 
young man’s great mental suffering of the last few 
days. 

“ It is a darned sight more agreeable to give com- 
missions than dismissals,” said the renowned Execu- 
tive, in his own peculiar style, — again putting his leg 
over the arm of the chair, of course. “ I can tell you 
what, colonel, you have made me feel very bad with 
your pale face and those mournful big eyes. I reckon 
you are very successful with the ladies, ain’t you ?” 
Julian blushed crimson, and the majestic foot over 
the chair began, as usual, to oscillate quite waggishly. 
“ Take my advice. When you want to bring to terms 
any obdurate charmer, you just manage to get pale, 
and you look at ’er as you looked at me last Satur- 
day on the back portico. She’ll come to terms, and 
be as manageable as you’d like to have ’er. This 
reminds me of a story I once heard a bargeman tell 
when I was going down the Missouri River in a flat- 
boat.” And here the redeemer of his country told one 
of his characteristic stories, which the distinguished 
men of the day had duly applauded scores of times, 
but which might not be so well appreciated now, 
though at the time it made even the grave Senator 
and the anxious Julian laugh. 

When Julian left the White House, Mr. Sinclair 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


355 

and the two Cackles went with him. As they walked 
towards the gate, Julian asked, — 

“ Will you tell me how I came to be promoted, 
when I was so near being dismissed ?” 

“You are promoted because you deserve it, and 
because your State is entitled to give some appoint- 
ments, and the Senator asked the President to pro- 
mote you, there being a vacancy to be filled. Brother 
Beau and Mr. Sinclair joined the Senator, and urged 
the President to promote you now, and he had to 
give in,” answered General Cackle. 

“ The President was well disposed, and the request 
of the Senator would have been sufficient without our 
co-operation, — at least, without mine” said Mr.. Sin- 
clair. 

“ Don’t you ever underrate yourself,” said the great 
Beau. “ Nothing is ever gained by doing one’s self 
injustice. For my part, I think we did help the Sen- 
ator some, though he would eventually have got the 
commission. Still, we precipitated matters, and the 
thing was done at once. And, by the bye, Norval, let 
me tell you : I would have helped in this matter of 
yours before, but I did not think you would have any 
trouble or delay in arranging it satisfactorily. Caesar 
and I were obliged to go to New York on Thurs- 
day, and we only returned last night. „ We saw your 
mother and sisters, and had a grand time with them. 
How very pretty that little girl Lola has got to be ! — 

and so very white ! She is superb. I ” 

“ I came with this gentleman,” said Mr. Sinclair, 
intentionally interrupting Beau, “ and I am charged 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


356 

with a secret commission of great importance, of 
which you must be made acquainted as soon as pos- 
sible, Julian.” 

“ Then come into my room at once. Here we are 
at my hotel. Where are you staying ?” 

“ Here also.” 

“ We are all here,” added Beau. 

“ We will see you both at dinner,” said the genet al. 

“ Yes, pretty soon, as I have had no breakfast,” 
said Julian; and, followed by Mr. Sinclair, he went 
up to his room. 

On the centre-table there were several letters, and 
on two of them Julian recognized Lola’s writing. 

“ Before you read your letters, tell me how long it 
is since you heard from Lola.” 

“ About ten days.” 

“ I see. That accounts for it. The girl is almost 
crazy because you have not answered her last two 
letters. She told me to say to you that if you don’t 
go at once to save her, something worse than death 
will happen; that she .begs and implores you not to 
delay a single day. She is almost wild. Some- 
thing has gone wrong, I am sure, and her father’s 
arrival seems to have precipitated a disaster.” 

“ Her father ? Has Lola’s father been found ?” 

“Why, yes. Didn’t you know it? Lola wrote 
you all about it the same day. He came nearly a 
week ago; and guess who found him and brought 
him to the house. No other than your uncle Isaac. 
But read your letters. All I wished to say is, that 
you must go to Lola immediately, for she certainly 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


35 7 


is in some distress, of which she did not wish to 
speak to me or to her father, — only to you. The 
little thing made me promise to go to camp to bring 
you to New York, and if I had not found you here 
I should have taken this evening’s train for Brandy 
Station to fetch you to her.” 

“ Then go I must. I’ll run back to the War Office 
to get a leave of absence if I can, and if I cannot 
I’ll go without it.” 

“No, that won’t do. You read your letters and 
eat your dinner, while I go back to the White House 
to see if the Senator is still there. If he is, he will 
go with me to the War Office to get you a leave, or 
I’ll try it myself.” 

Mr. Sinclair met the Senator as he was coming 
out of the White House. He told him why Julian 
must have a leave, and both went to the War Office 
to get it. While they waited for that important 
document in the Secretary’s reception-room, Julian, 
«t the hotel, read his letters. 

The two from Lola troubled him. What could 
that great calamity be Which she said poisoned the 
pleasure of meeting her father? Julian could not 
imagine. In trying to find what it could be, he 
thought of the letters given him at the War De- 
partment. Perhaps these letters might give a clue. 
He took them from his breast-pocket and broke the 
seal of one. 

What ! Did his eyes deceive him ? There, there 
it was ! Was it so ? Could it be so ? He looked at 
the heading and signature again, and a great sob 


WHO WOULD HAVE ■ THOUGHT IT? 


358 

arose from his heart, and he fell on his knees by the 
sofa and bowed his head and wept. Then, with the 
simplicity of a child, he raised his hands to heaven 
and offered humble thanks to God. 

The letter was signed, 

“ Your affectionate father, 

“ James B. Norval.” 

But now a terrible shadow darkened Julian’s 
happiness. “ Perhaps I did not read the date right,” 
he thought, and arose, trembling, to approach the 
window to see the writing more clearly. He looked 
again. 

No ; he was not mistaken. The letter was dated 
London, 6th of March, 1863. Pie opened the other; 
that also was from his father,, and dated March 10th, 
1863, four days later. No; there was no doubt his 
father was alive ! How glad his dear mother would 
be! thought Julian, and sat down to read his father’s 
letters leisurely, forgetting that he had not yet had 
his breakfast, and that it was now after three o’clock. 

But how could he think of eating, when he almost 
forgot Lola? His father would leave London for 
New York in a few days ! Perhaps he was on his 
way now. He had heard of the report of his death 
in Egypt, and had written immediately contradicting 
the report, — the doctor said, — and hoped that his 
wife had long since received his letters. And so she 
would, if Mr. Hammerhard had not been keeping 
them for his friend the major, — if she had not married 
so hastily. 

Julian had just finished reading his father’s letters 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


359 

when Mr. Sinclair, accompanied by the Senator, came 
in, saying, — 

“ Here is your leave. Off with you. But don’t 
desert, for I pledged my word you would not, though 
I have my misgivings that you would do it if Lola 
wished it. But what is the matter now ?” he added, 
seeing traces of tears in Julian’s eyes. 

For sole answer Julian extended one of his father’s 
letters to him, and the other to the Senator. 

“ Who would have thought it ?” exclaimed both 
on looking at the signature. 


CHAPTER LIV. 

“SO, INSTEAD OF A PISTOL, HE COCKED HIS TAIL. 

‘aha!’ quoth he, ‘what have we here?’” 

Byron : “ The Devil's Ride." 

We must now go back a few days in the course 
of this truthful story, in order to explain what had 
happened whilst Julian yet waited, — what had filled 
Lola with such wild terrors and surrounded her with 
difficulties from which Julian alone could extricate 
her. 

From the day on which the major had taken Lola 
to his office to obtain the information concerning her 
father, his active brain had known no rest. He did 
not hope or expect to win Lola by fair means. He 
did not pretend to; but he was perfectly ready to use 


360 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


unfair ones. He cared not, provided he succeeded, 
and she was his. 

The more he studied how to accomplish this object, 
he became convinced that he would have to shut her 
up in some house or carry her off by force and strata- 
gem, by contriving some such story as the one which 
induced her to go to his office. This was difficult; 
but Hack liked to conquer difficulties. Yes, he would 
contrive to induce Lola to go on board of a steamer, 
and take her to Cuba and there force her to marry 
him. And, wild and absurd as this idea was, to the 
heated brain of the major it seemed quite practicable. 

“ If Lola is distrustful, the madam can accompany 
her and make our departure quite proper and most 
decorous.” And the ci-devant expounder of the gos- 
pel laughed to think that Mrs. Norval would help him 
to carry off Lola. 

“ I’ll threaten the old woman to let the doctor know 
our sweet private relations if she proves obdurate. 
Still, I hate useless cruelty, and if I can make her 
believe that, for both our sakes, we must get rid of 
Lola and send her off before her father comes to the 
United States, then so much the better. That is far 
preferable. Now, then, first to get out of Uncle 
Sam’s clutches.” And, saying this, he sat down to 
write his resignation, which he sent off to Washing- 
ton by that evening’s mail. 

That done, the major stepped into Hooker and Skin- 
ner’s office, to ascertain how much money he had in 
bank in New York, and how much in London. The 
figures were not so large as he had anticipated, but 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


361 

still they were by no means small ; and, as he could 
not afford to quarrel with his honest partners, he 
made up his mind to be satisfied. 

The major then went to Mr. Skroo’s desk and told 
him to get his accounts all in order, for he found he 
had a good deal of private business to attend to, and 
at any moment might be obliged to leave the service. 
Mr. Skroo gave the major a very peculiar look out 
of his yellow round eyes, and muttered to himself, 
“ I too will leave the service, and that before you 
do it.” That night Mr. Skroo had a long consulta- 
tion with his wife, and with her approval decided that 
if the major was to leave the army, Mr. Skroo had 
better write a certain document which — to avoid 
delays — Mrs. Skroo would in person carry to 
Washington. 

Which she did, for she had a powerful friend there, 
who wrote lovely letters to her, and would do any- 
thing she asked. 

After finishing that day’s business, the major got 
into his crimson-cushioned coupe — a present from 
Mrs. Norval — and drove home. 

With light step he ran up the grand perron of the 
Norval mansion, and, taking a pass-key from his 
pocket, he opened the door and went in. He divested 
himself of his spring overcoat and hat in the hall, 
and, passing his fingers through his glossy chestnut- 
colored locks, stepped into the reception-room, hoping 
to find Lola there. 

And she was there ! But how was she ? What 
sight was that before his eyes ? Lola was sitting on 
3 1 


362 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


the knees of a man whose back was turned to the 
door, so that the major could not see his face. But 
he saw plainly enough that Lola was kissing his eyes 
and his forehead, and that he had both his arms around 
her waist. 

The major was struck dumb with horror and amaze- 
ment. He staggered and held to the door to keep 
from falling. He thought the man could be no other 
than Julian, and, as the thought flashed on his brain, 
he instinctively carried his hand to his breast-pocket, 
where a little pistol — the mate to the one he had 
given Julian — lay always ready. Lola looked up, 
and exclaimed, — 

“Come, major; here he is. To think that when 
we went to inquire for him, he was so near New 
York ! Papa, this is Major Hackwell, the gentleman 
who interested himself so kindly in helping me to 
obtain information about you.” 

Like one in a horrible dream, Hackwell shook 
hands with the gentleman whom Lola called father, 
but who did not seem to be such, for his hair was 
very light and his eyes were blue, whilst Lola’s were 
jet black. Moreover, he seemed too young to have 
a daughter eighteen years old. 

Hackwell made this observation to himself; but 
his usual fluency seemed all of a sudden exhausted. 
He muttered something about being very glad at 
Lola’s happiness, left father and daughter, and walked 
up-stairs to Mrs. Norval’s boudoir. He knocked at 
the door, and the madam’s voice said, “ Come in.” 
His ex-reverence went in, and casting a glance around 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


363 

the room to see if the madam was alone, and another 
to the door to see that no one had followed him, he 
locked the door. The expression of his face told 
so many terrible things that Mrs. Norval stood up 
frightened. 

The dark demons and hideous monsters, the un- 
tamed, ferocious beasts of passions, the poisonous 
reptiles, and repulsive, crawling things of wicked 
propensities and sinful desires, which formed a perfect 
“ happy famify ” in the breast of the exquisite Hack- 
well when all were well fed and allowed to gambol 
at pleasure and live in unchecked freedom, now 
arose infuriated, and howled and hissed as if they 
would devour the heart of their indulgent protector 
and tear his breast to pieces. But their roar and 
hissing were heard by no one but himself. Mrs. Nor- 
val did not suspect that her darling carried with him 
this horrible menagerie (no wife ever does) ; she only 
saw in the expression of his face the shadows of the 
monsters. She was terrified, and with colorless lips 
she asked what had happened. 

“ It is all up with us ; that’s all.” 

“ Has the doctor come ?” 

“ You are a fool !” thundered the bland gentleman. 
“ Who puts such notions in your head ?” 

“ Forgive me, John darling. You know that Julian 
and Mattie are always saying they- don’t believe 
their father is dead; and, though Mr. Sinclair and 
yourself are sure of it, I can’t help feeling uneasy at 
times; and now, when you came in so pale and 
agitated, and the expression of your face was so 


364 WH0 WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

terrible, I — I — I thought that some dreadful calamity 
had ” 

“ Ha ! ha !” laughed darling John, pitilessly. “ So 
you would regard it as a calamity if your good hus- 
band were to turn up, eh ? Pretty good, madam ! 
very good! Who would have thought it? Not 
those dear, good souls of our congregation, surely; 
not those good Puritans who regarded you as a 
model of matronly virtues, and a stickler for propriety. 
But no; let your pure heart be easy, as yet, on that 
score. I only wish to tell you that as your interest- 
ing brother did not go to hell, as he ought to, but 
only to Mexico — which is next door — to bring Lola’s 
father, the man will claim his daughter and her 
money along with her.” 

“I know it, John darling; that is why, when I 
heard you come in, I left Isaac with the girls in the 
library, and ran up to see you here. I was in hopes 
you had arranged matters.” 

“ Arranged matters ? And how can I, when it is 
not a week since I got the first intimation that Lola’s 
father was advertising for her? And here your cursed 
brother brings him. I tell you plainly, we are beg- 
gars if you flinch. Do you hear me? — if you flinch ! 
For I must have at least a whole week.” 

“What must I do ? Tell me, darling!” said she, 
more and more terrified. 

“You must, of course, look for your husband’s 
will, high and low, everywhere, and ” 

“ But, John, how can I find it, when you took it, 
my dear?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


365 

“ Fool ! damned fool !” hissed the smooth Hack- 
well between his set teeth ; then aloud, “ And who tells 
you that you are to find it ? I say you must look 
for it ; but of course you cannot find it, or tell where 
it is, or who stole it ; on all of which assertions you 
can take your oath, for you certainly don’t know where 
the will is now, and no one stole it since you gave it 
to me, and you could not find it if you searched until 
doomsday, for I alone know where it is.” 

“I’ll do just as you order me; only don’t be 
angry with me: /^/almost kills me.” 

“ Zounds, madam ! because I damn your accursed 
brother from the bottom of my heart, must you apply 
all my words to yourself?” 

“ I will not any more, dearest. Forgive me ; you 
know it is because I love you so devotedly, you, my 
angel. You are superbly beautiful in your anger, and, 
though you terrify me, I adore you only the more, 
my divinity.” 

And here the matron arose to throw her arms 
around her husband’s neck. 

The major received a few caresses quite patiently, 
and even courteously ; but when he saw that she was 
about to pour forth a torrent of them, hypocrite though 
he was, he could not tolerate the infliction with a sem- 
blance of pleasure. He averted his face, pushed her, 
and arose to walk up and down the room. 

His heart was swelling with suppressed emotion. 
His brain throbbed at the thought that Lola would 
be taken from him, — Lola, that radiant, magnificent 
creature, to keep whom from marrying Julian, he had 
3 1 * 


366 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

plotted, lied, and stolen. He had cherished the 
thrilling, intoxicating hope, though with savage spells 
of rage and wild longings of despair, that she would 
be his in spite of Julian; for if Julian would not 
marry Emma, he, to save his mother’s good name, 
and his father from a shame that might kill him, 
would certainly surrender his aspirations to Lola. 
Then the only opposition would come from Lola 
herself; and she was 'so generous that, to save Julian 
and the doctor from the shame of exposure, she 
would sacrifice herself, and he, Hackwell, would soon 
succeed in consoling her for the loss of Julian. Of 
this he was sure. He had been too successful with 
the fair sex not to be convinced of that. Moreover, 
Hammerhard, who was a shrewd man of the world, 
had often told him that he had the whole game in 
his hands, particularly since Lola’s visit to his office. 

Hackwell had passed all these things in review 
many times, never once shrinking from the disgusting 
array. It was “ all fair in love and war.” 

But now “ the accursed blue-eyed Mexican” came 
to overthrow all these beautiful combinations. Who 
ever heard of a blue-eyed Mexican? He wished he 
could choke the rare specimen, muttered Hack, pacing 
his wife’s chamber. 

Suddenly an idea came to his fertile brain, and 
gradually he grew more composed. He had hit 
upon a plan to carry off Lola, and on the instant he 
resolved to carry it out. The plan was better, less 
risky, than the other. He smiled, and Mrs. Norval, 
who was watching him, felt happy. She too smiled. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


367 


CHAPTER LV. 

HIS EX-REVERENCE SHOWS THE CLOVEN FOOT. 

The major did not inquire for particulars of the 
manner in which Isaac found Lola’s father, and so 
successfully brought him to Mrs. Norval’s house. 
But Lola was too happy to resent this seeming want 
of sympathy, and very good-naturedly volunteered a 
full account of the whole affair up to the time that 
“ Mr. Sprig came in, and she walked into the parlor, 
and Mattie presented her, saying, ‘ Lola, this is our 
Uncle Isaac, whom we thought dead, and who now 
comes from your country. Uncle, this is Miss Lola 
Medina, a Mexican young lady.’ Whereupon Mr. 
Sprig was so surprised that he was for the moment 
speechless ; but as soon as he was able to speak, 
had said, ‘ Lola Medina, did you say ? And was 
she found among the Indians ? And did her mother 
leave her in the care of a doctor?’ ‘Yes, yea! papa 
was the doctor,’ Mattie said. Whereupon Mr. Sprig, 
without saying a word, seized his hat and rushed to 
the door, and when he got there turned and said, 

‘ Miss Lola, I am going to bring your father,’ and 
ran out into the street, to come back in half an hour 
with papa.” 

The major listened very attentively, thinking how 
fresh and red her lips were, and how sweet her breath, 


368 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

never giving one thought to what she said, except 
inwardly to curse Isaac, and wish that he and “ papa” 
were at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico. But he 
seemed so interested in Lola’s narrative that she be- 
came more animated, and sat close to him to tell him 
all, for had he not interested himself so much in her 
obtaining information of her father? Of course he 
had; and he must be pleased, of course. But he 
alone knew that his private menagerie were howling 
and tossing and scratching, and that the closer Lola 
sat by him, the wild beasts got more ferocious and 
unmanageable, as if that sweet breath was poison to 
them. The major heroically dug his nails into his 
flesh, to keep his beasts quiet, and promised them a 
nice carnival by-and-by, to silence them, whilst he 
smiled placidly on Lola’s lovely face, radiant in her 
happy laughter which dimpled her rosy cheeks and 
displayed her pearly teeth. 

. The whole family seemed to sympathize with Lola 
in her happiness; and perhaps they did, for divers 
reasons. The major and the madam had resolved to 
retain the money as long as possible by the pre- 
tended, loss of the will, and had now made up their 
minds to invest as much money in the major’s name 
as they could obtain from Mr. Sinclair. It was po- 
litic to be very amiable to Lola and her father, and 
detain them as long as possible. So the major 
smiled, listening to Lola, and the rest showed their 
satisfaction in other ways. 

Mattie laughed and talked the loudest, for she 
really loved Lola, and was happy because Lola was. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 369 

She walked about the rooms with her uncle, tell- 
ing him how lovely Lola’s character was, how 
talented she was, etc. 

Ruth was quite smiling and gracious, for she saw 
that Don Luis had a distingue look which would 
bring eclat to the Norval mansion. 

Emma was delighted, for she hoped that now Lola 
would immediately go away. 

Whilst Isaac and Don Luis were the happiest of 
all, in having succeeded beyond their most sanguine 
expectations. 

After her interview with the major, Mrs. Norval 
dressed for dinner, and came down-stairs to join the 
rest of the family. 

For a wonder, her entrance did not cast gloom or 
seriousness over everybody. On the contrary, she 
seemed to take part in the general contentment. 
Mattie went on walking about the rooms, hanging 
on her uncle’s arm, whilst Lola kept giving her 
account to the delighted major, and Ruth and Emma 
conversed — charmed — with Don Luis. 

No family dinner ever passed off more delightfully 
than this one, the first that the lamented Isaac par- 
took of in his sister’s house. 

“ If only darling papa, and dear Julian, and good 
Lavvy were here,” exclaimed Mattie, “wouldn’t we 
be the happiest mortals in Yankee-land ?” 

Lola and Isaac warmly assented, and Ruth and 
Emma said, “Of course.” The madam looked at 
the major. He said, raising his glass to drink with 
Isaac, — 


370 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“As we are eating the fatted calf in your honor, 
Isaac, here is to you, and may you never leave us.” 
All drank to Isaac. 

After dinner many visitors came, — as usual, — and 
the young ladies had music, dancing, and singing. 
The married ladies and older men had card-playing ; 
a few played billiards or conversed. About eleven 
o’clock, refreshments of the choicest variety — from 
capon with truffles to biscuits glaces — were served, 
with rare wines and choice fruits. 

When Isaac retired to his elegant sleeping-cham- 
ber, he looked around, and involuntarily exclaimed, — 

“ Why, Jenny lives in paradise !” But Isaac did 
not think that there could be a serpent in it. 

Next day the major had a long and most animated 
conference with his confederates, Messrs. Hammer- 
hard, Hooker, and Skinner. They came to the con- 
clusion that to carry off Lola forcibly would be, if 
not impracticable, certainly very difficult and dan- 
gerous. It would be better to intimidate her into 
compliance, by proving to her that she was entirely 
in the major’s power; that he could have a writ 
served on her father if he attempted to take her 
away; that to resist the major’s wishes would only 
force him to an action, which would bring upon her 
a much worse notoriety than what she had dreaded 
before ; that her mother’s history would be all 
brought to light; and as she and the major lived 
in the same house, and she had admitted that he 
was her husband, of course the case was very clear. 

This certainly was a better plan than to take her 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


371 


by force. Still, the major hired a yacht for six 
months, — to sail about the bay during the summer, 
he said, — and gave orders to get it ready to go to sea 
at once. 

That evening, after a sumptuous dinner given in 
honor of Isaac’s return, to which only intimate friends 
were invited, all were assembled in the spacious draw- 
ing-rooms, which early began to fill with visitors. 
The major made himself very agreeable to the com- 
pany, whilst he watched his chance to speak to Lola 
alone, unobserved by Mrs. Norval’s eyes, which fol- 
lowed him always. 

Two of the most fashionable ladies were announced. 
Taking this opportunity, when Mrs. Norval advanced 
to receive them, to speak to Lola, the major said, in a 
whisper, — 

“ I am going into the library ; follow me presently. 
I have something of great importance to tell you.” 

With a slight inclination of her head, Lola signified 
assent ; and ten minutes after, in great trepidation and 
amazement, she went into the library, which was on 
the other side of the hall. 

The major had stepped out upon a little balcony 
around the bay-window of the library, and he called 
Lola thither. With great reluctance Lola went as far 
as the window, and stood waiting to hear what he 
had to say. 

“ Come out here. The light shines on your dress, 
and you will attract attention standing there. The 
night air is very mild. Come out, please; do not 
fear me.” 


372 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Lola hesitated, but she went out. The major was 
very calm, and his manner was very respectful. 

“Lola, when does your father say he is to take 
you away?” he asked. 

“He says we had better take the first steamer, as 
we will have to wait too long for the next.” 

“ The first steamer leaves in four days.” 

“ I know ; but it will not take me long to get ready.” 

“ But why such haste ?” 

“ Papa is anxious to get back on account of the 
coming of the Archduke Maximilian, he says. I 
heard Mr. Sinclair say to him this evening after din- 
ner that he was ready to see papa to-morrow. And 
papa said that Mr. Sinclair could take his own time, 
as he (papa) was in a hurry to return, but in no hurry 
to receive a fortune of the existence of which he had 
had no idea ; and with the exception of one hundred 
thousand dollars he would give to Mr. Isaac, that 
he was willing to leave in Mr. Sinclair’s hands every- 
thing as the doctor had arranged, until I am of age.” 

The major was silent, though evidently agitated. 
What Lola said was good and bad news to him. 
After awhile he said, — 

“ Listen to me, Lola. I know you love Julian ; 
but you can’t marry him, because he has given his 
word of honor to marry Emma; and if he is a man 
of honor, he must fulfill his promise.” 

Lola was silent. 

“ Don’t you believe what I say?” asked the major. 

“ I don’t know. But suppose it is so ?” 

“ Then why will you not try to give me a little 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


373 

love in return for all I have given you ever since you 
were a mere child ? See how patiently I have borne 
your indifference, and even dislike, hoping that sooner 
or later you would appreciate my devotion.” 

“ Indeed, major, if it was to tell me this you called 
me here, I must go. You know how I feel about 
this — this — matter ; it is very disagreeable.” 

“ You spurn me, then ? Take care !” 

“ Do you threaten me ?” 

“ No, but I caution you.” 

“ I can’t imagine why you should caution me be- 
cause I can’t love you,” said Lola, moving towards 
the window to return to the library. 

The major caught her hand to detain her, and im- 
mediately lost his calmness and self-control. His 
wild beasts began to toss, and leap, and howl, and in 
an instant the whole menagerie was in a tumult, — all, 
all, — the slimy, crawling things as well as the unruly, 
ferocious beasts. The touch of that pure hand did it 
all, — the little, soft palm, which sent through his 
whole being an electric thrill, and made him feel that 
he could commit murder, theft, perjury, or anything 
else to which his menagerie prompted him. And yet 
the major laughed at Mrs. Norval’s infatuation ! There 
is a law of compensation, surely, though it is to be 
hoped, for the sake of the major, that we don’t pay for 
everything. The agitated ex-divine said, — 

“ Lola, have pity. Don’t drive me to despair, for 
a desperate man will do anything. Listen. Do not 
go away yet. We can find plenty of excuses to in- 
duce your father to leave you a little while with us.” 

3 2 


374 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Lola looked pensively down, thinking it was very 
bitter to go and leave Julian without seeing him 
again. If she stayed, she might see him ! But no ! 
Was he not to marry Emma? Better never to see 
him again ! She looked up, and answered, — 

“ No, major, it is best that I go now.” 

“ You know that the doctor left a will to be opened 
in case your father claimed you. I am sure you 
ought to stay until the will is found ; and Mrs. Norval 
has not yet baen able to find it.” 

“ Papa doesn’t care for that, nor I either. Every- 
thing will be left in Mr. Sinclair’s hands.” 

“ And is that your sole answer to my prayer ?” 

“ What else can I say, major?” 

“ That you will try to love me a little.” 

“ No, I cannot say that, nor stay either.” 

“ But you must do both, and you shall. I have 
the power to compel you to stay and to hear reason. 
But if you stay a little while, I will not use my power; 
I swear it.” 

“ Pshaw ! you speak in riddles, which I don’t 
understand, but which do not intimidate me in the 
least,” said she, contemptuously. 

“ Spare me your contempt, and, since you are so 
defiant, let me tell you that you are legally married 
to me. By the laws of this State you are my wife, 
for you so declared before five witnesses.” 

“ This is infamous ! When did I declare such a 
thing ? When were we married ?” 

“ We were married by the fact of our having said 
before witnesses that we were man and wife. Surely 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


375 


you cannot have forgotten that you repeated at my 
office several times that you were mine !” And the 
major, trembling with emotion, tried to clasp Lola 
to his heart. She, however, quickly springing back, 
eluded his grasp, saying, — 

“ Miserable viper ! is it possible that you can be 
so treacherous as to avail yourself of so flimsy a 
subterfuge? You become repulsive to me.” 

“To win you and make you mine, I’ll do anything; 
I’ll commit murder or anything else. fA.ll is fair in 
love,’ you know. All I care for is to secure you, no 
matter if you say you hate me. You will love me 
afterwards. I’ll make you. See if I don’t.” 

“ Never ! I loathe you, and I don’t believe what 
you say. If you will commit murder, you will then 
certainly lie to obtain your wicked purpose. I don’t 
believe you.” 

“ Very well. The day you attempt to leave, I shall 
detain you by force, if necessary. My witnesses are 
ready to give me their sworn affidavits, or to appear 
in person, to prove that you admitted freely that you 
were my wife. If your father attempts to take you 
away, I shall have him arrested for kidnapping my 
wife.” 

“ This is horrible !” exclaimed Lola, sitting on one 
of the rustic chairs in the balcony and covering her 
face — feminine fashion — with both hands. 

“ Lola, again I say, pity me !” said the major, 
kneeling by her. “ I promise I will not take any 
steps to force you to stay, or tell any one I have this 
hold upon you, if you will remain for a short time 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


376 

and let me try to win your love. Give me a chance. 
If in six months, — say if by that time I can’t per- 
suade you to be my wife and convince you that 
you cannot marry Julian, then I promise I shall not 
1 oppose your departure.” 

“ I could never trust you. Now you promise this; 
in six months you would break your promise as 
easily as you betrayed me into a wicked share.” 

“ Then there is no hope of my winning you ?” 

Lola shook her head in the negative, and rose to 
leave. 

“Very well, I shall have the consolation of knowing 
that you are tied to me, and no one can snatch you 
away. We will drag our chain together; and, by 
Jove ! that is something,” said he, rising from his 
knees more agitated than before. 

Without waiting to hear more or saying another 
word, Lola passed him and ran up-stairs to lock her- 
self up in her room to pray and weep. Then she 
rose to write to Julian and entreat him to come. 

The major returned to the gay company, smiling, 
just in time to meet Mrs. Norval, who, having missed 
him and Lola, was looking for him anxiously. 

“ You are a dear darling,” said he, putting her arm 
in his. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


377 


CHAPTER L V I. 

HE AWOKE ONE MORNING AND FOUND HIMSELF FAMOUS. 

Sophy Head jumped out of bed one morning and 
crowed ! Plis surprise and delight at this sudden 
burst of a new faculty were extreme. He flapped his 
elbows against his ribs in imitation of a rooster’s 
wings, and crowed again and again in proud exulta- 
tion. Feeling much encouraged, he tried neighing 
and braying and grunting, in all of which, to his 
delighted amazement, he found himself efficient. No 
discoverer — and I don’t except Columbus, Vasco da 
Gama, Newton, or any other of the glorious and 
immortal host — was ever so proud or elated with 
his newly-found world as Sophy. He would now 
eclipse Wagg! And what more glory need a man 
achieve in this perishable world ? 

Sophy was so happy that he ordered his servant to 
saddle Beau, and at three o’clock bring him around 
to the office-door. For the first time after his mis- 
hap with Mademoiselle Mina, Sophy felt a desire to 
sally forth in his glory. 

On her part, Mina had carefully noted the days of 
his absence, and wisely concluded that her soft-hearted 
and soft-headed admirer was about to slip through 
her fingers. To do Miss Mina justice, I must say that 
3 2 * 


378 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


she did not wish to entrap Sophy into matrimony. 
Nor had she any idea of being a poor man’s wife. 
Not she. She had a great deal nicer time as a rich 
lady’s maid, and meant to stay so until she could 
marry some rich grocer or retired shoemaker, who 
would adore her and give her all the ribbons and 
laces she wanted. She, therefore, did not mourn for 
the loss of Sophy, only she did not like the way it 
was brought about, and swore she would revenge 
herself on the major for calling her a “ grisette” and 
a “ servant” before her devoted admirer, and she 
would punish Sophy for deserting her so meanly 
afterwards. But how could she do this ? She had 
no other means than Sophy himself. Yes, she would 
find out about the major’s mode of spending his 
days, and she would make Sophy tell her all, and 
then she would, perhaps, find a way of paying them 
off together. The first step was to get hold of Sophy, 
and Sophy came no more. As the mountain would 
not come, Miss Mina wisely foresaw that she would 
have to go to the mountain. 

And she went. 

Sophy Head came on the curveting, pirouetting 
Beau around the Bowling Green, thinking he would 
go up to the Park by way of Madison Avenue instead 
of Fifth Avenue, when, as he turned to go up Broad- 
way, he saw a lovely figure standing there holding 
by the iron railing and looking at the fountain. The 
figure was beautifully dressed and closely veiled, and 
had one little foot resting on the curbstone a little 
higher than the other, so that Sophy could see 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


379 

a lovely ankle, and the high instep of the tiny little 
foot. 

The figure bowed ; Sophy checked Beau, and, re- 
spectfully lifting his cap, approached her. 

“ Bonjour, monsieur,” said the melodious voice of 
Mademoiselle Mina, and though Sophy ejaculated 
a terrified “ ah !” still, as he always was a “ galang 
Tom,” he could not run from a lady. 

He alighted and tried to make apologies, which 
she received with a sweet, lovely grace, which 
enchanted him. She had no difficulty whatever in 
making him feel truly repentant, and more in love 
than before. As they both had much to say to each 
other, they thought they had better adjourn to the 
Astor House and have a long talk in one of the par- 
lors. Sophy went back to the office to send away 
Beau with an orderly, and then rejoined the lovely 
Mina. After spending two hours in sweet converse 
at the Astor House, they walked up Broadway 
together, stopping to take an ice on the way. 

From that day Sophy lived for Mina only. They 
went to the theatre together, took lunches and drives, 
and spent every afternoon from three to five, and 
every evening from seven to ten or eleven, or later, 
always with each other. She was necessary to 
Sophy’s existence. The half of her object was thus 
accomplished. Now for the major, thought Miss 
Mina, and she felt she was on his track. 

As Mina got in the habit of going out so often, 
and staying so late, Ruth began to remonstrate. 
This Miss Mina rather liked. She never had loved 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT t 


380 

her cold-hearted mistress much; but since the night 
of the ridiculous misadventure and fainting, Mina 
positively hated Ruth, because she had so cruelly 
ridiculed her. The little French maid wanted only 
a good excuse to leave Ruth. 

“ Mademoiselle,” said Mina, courtesying to Lola, 
“ I wish to know if you would be willing to take me 
to Mexico as your maid ?” 

“ If you were not in Ruth’s service, yes, Mina; but 
never would I take you if you left her to come to 
me.” 

“ I am going to leave Miss Ruth, and, as I would 
like to go with you, I wish to know if you will take 
me, so that I may not look for a place elsewhere.” 

“ I fear, Mina, it would seem as if I had enticed you 
away, particularly as I have often told Ruth that I 
wished I had a maid like you, and that I envied her 
having you. No, Mina, I am sorry, but it wouldn’t 
look right. It is such a mean sort of treachery to 
entice any one away. I shrink from the appearance 
of it, even.” 

“ I am sorry. I shall leave Miss Ruth anyway. 
I suppose if I were out of employment you would 
take me ?” 

“You are a little sophist,” Lola said, laughing. 
“ But I dislike to make any such promise.” 

Mina, however, saw that if Lola could be satisfied 
that Ruth would not attach any blame to her, she 
would consent to take her. She therefore gave notice 
to Ruth that she would leave her service, and went 
out to meet Sophy. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? ^8 1 

Mrs. Skroo had returned from Washington in a 
very happy mood. She had accomplished her mis- 
sion successfully. Herself and sister, with Miss Mina 
(whom Sophy presented as a young lady staying at 
the Norvals’), made a party that night to go to the 
theatre. Mrs. Skroo was charmed with Mina, and as 
Mina dropped several hints about the usages of the 
grand monde, and about dressing, Mrs. Skroo pricked 
up her ears, and in about two seconds she made up 
her mind to cultivate Mina. When they separated, 
she kissed Mina, and would not let go her hand until 
she had promised to call on her next day. 

Mina, on her part, had also picked up hints dropped 
by Mrs. Skroo. For instance, Mrs. Skroo had sneered 
when Major Hackwell’s name was mentioned, and 
afterwards had said that perhaps the major would 
“ come down from his high horse some of these days ; 
that Uncle Sam sometimes inquired where his money 
went,” etc., etc., etc, — desultory remarks, which would 
have meant nothing to a mind less analytic than that 
of Mina, but which in hers formed a concrete mass 
of varied threads to lead her into a labyrinth of facts, 
— valuable facts. 

Of course she accepted Mrs. Skroo’s invitation. 


382 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


* 


CHAPTER L VI I. 

WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 

Who is that traveler standing there, in stoical indiffer- 
ence to the drenching rain and the mud with which the 
passing hacks bespatter him ? No other than Julian 
Norval,just arrived in the Washington night-train at 
dismal Courtland-Street depot. As there is no place 
where a passenger can wait under shelter for a car- 
riage to drive up to him and he get into it without 
going in the pelting rain, Julian had to submit to the 
infliction, as everybody else does, will do, and has 
done. He was drenched and bespattered, with the 
rest of the traveling community, and, like everybody 
else, submitted silently, meekly; for in this free coun- 
try we are the subjects of railroad kings and other 
princes of monopolies; we obey their wishes, and 
pay our money. 

Julian was waiting for a hack which a policeman 
had politely volunteered to procure him ; for during 
the war even policemen were civil to gentlemen wear- 
ing the uniform of army officers, — a phenomenon 
which disappeared with the war. But Julian was too 
restless and anxious to get home to wait much longer. 
He crossed the slippery street, and took the first 
vehicle he met, which was a groaning, wheezing 
hack, pulled by two asthmatic Rosinantes, who fell 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


383 

down as they started, but were galvanized into a 
sickly trot by the electrifying oaths of the driver. 
The ground being slippery, and the horses in the 
last stages of consumption, it took Julian nearly an 
hour to arrive home. 

But at last the Rosinantes stopped in front of the 
palatial mansion of the Norvals, where Julian dis- 
missed the dilapidated turn-out, and carrying a port- 
manteau in his hand, which contained all his baggage, 
he ran up the broad steps and rang the bell. It being 
only about seven o’clock, and Sunday morning, he 
had to wait for some time before a servant in his 
undress uniform — for the Norval mansion made its 
servants dress in livery — came to open the door. 

As the hack had driven up, however, a white little 
hand had opened the lattice of a third-floor front 
window, and two lovely eyes had seen him alight and 
come up the steps. Thus, by the time he came in, 
Lola was nearly dressed, and ready to see him. She 
had given her wavy hair a twist and pinned it with a 
comb, fastened a morning wrapper around her small 
waist, and with but little more than this, her toilette 
was finished, for she had just come out of her bath, 
and had no ablutions to make. 

“ Why, Mr. Ju ” 

“ Hush ! don’t wake any one,” said Julian, inter- 
rupting the servant’s ejaculations, as he foresaw they 
would be emphatic and loud. “ Are they all well ?” 

“ Yes, sir, all well, and Miss Lola’s father is here ; 
and he took all our breaths away, he and’Mr. Isaac. 
They fell on us like ” 


384 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ I know ! I know ! Take my portmanteau up- 
stairs, and I’ll go to my mother’s room.” 

Julian was so agitated that he had to lean against 
the door of his mother’s bedroom before he felt calm 
enough to go in and give her the startling news of 
his father’s arrival in London. 

Presently he summoned courage to knock gently, 
fearing lest he might startle her unpleasantly, and thus 
render her less composed to hear the glad news. 

He then knocked a little louder, and ventured to 
say,— 

“ Mother dear, will you let me in ?’ 

Since the arrival of Lola’s father, Mrs. Norval 
had slept very little, because she had noticed that her 
dear John was very restless and hardly slept any at 
all. On Saturday night she and her husband (as she 
supposed) had had a long talk, and had not gone to 
sleep until near daybreak. They had been discussing 
whether or not they should announce their marriage. 
The major, after apparently yielding to Mrs. Norval’s 
wish to do so, had decided they had better wait 
until Julian came home and let him be the first one 
to know it. 

“Very well, John: I frankly confess to you that it 
is very sweet to have you here all to myself and no 
one know it. But at the same time, I am in constant 
dread that something might happen just on account 
of our having kept our marriage secret,” Mrs. Norval 
had said. 

“ And what do you imagine might happen ?” the 
major asked, smiling. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


385 

“ Well, I don’t know ; but you and Julian might 
get into a quarrel, and ” 

“And you think that this would be avoided if 
Julian knew I am his papa? How little you know 
your boy ! He would only hate me worse.” 

“ But he would respect you for my sake.” 

“ Peut-etre !” said he, rising to go to bed; “but 
I don’t believe it.” 

“ Moreover, it doesn’t look respectable to be married 
clandestinely, — doesn’t look proper .” 

“ Bah ! I thought you had forgotten your cant of 
old times. Good-night. I have to be in my clothes 
early in the morning ; I must retire now.” And he 
was soon sound asleep. 

That was, however, only about four hours before 
Julian knocked at the door. 

Mrs. Norval awoke with a start. Julian’s voice 
resembled that of his father so much, that even after 
he repeated, “ Mother dear, will you let me in ?” she 
could not believe it was Julian and not his father. 
Like one seized with ague, the madam shook with 
fright, and in terror rushed to the major’s room, 
exclaiming, in a hoarse whisper, — 

“ John, did you hear that voice ?” 

“ Of course I did ; it is that of the boor your son. 
If I had been dressed, I would have* gone around to 
tell him to behave like a gentleman. But I couldn’t 
well go through your room.” And the major laughed, 
as Mephistopheles would have done. “ Bah !” added 
he, pitilessly, “ you see 1 gory locks' everywhere. I 
thought you hated popery too well to be superstitious. 

R 33 


3 86 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Didn’t you say you want to announce our marriage ? 
Why not take this opportunity ?” And he felt more 
than half a wish to announce it himself, and dictate 
a compromise with Julian by which he would stipu- 
late silence on condition of Lola’s hand. But he 
would not have had time to put his wicked wish into 
execution, as Mrs. Norval now had recovered her 
presence of mind, and bolted the door between their 
rooms, hastening to let Julian in. 

“How soundly you sleep, darling mother!” said 
Julian, kissing her. 

“What brings you home so unexpectedly? I hope 
you have not got into trouble ?” 

“ No, mother, trouble doesn’t bring me, though I 
have had plenty of it for the last two weeks. It is 
over now, I hope. What brings me, dear mother, is 
a great joy.” And Julian broke down, and leaned his 
head on Ms mother’s shoulder, unable to say any 
more. 

“ What is it, then ?” 

“ Prepare yourself to hear something very, very 
startling, but which is going to make us very 
happy.” 

“ Well, tell me, then. What is it?” 

“ What your heart would ask of the Lord to grant 
to us ; that is what it is. Don’t you guess now ?” 

“ No, I can’t. For Heaven’s sake, tell me,” said 
she, turning very pale, and beginning to tremble so 
violently that Julian became alarmed, and hastened 
to say, to appease her, — 

“ Well, dearest mother, our prayers have been 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT ? 


3 3 ; 


heard, and a noble-hearted man was spared. My 
beloved father is in London. I have just received 
two letters from him. He might be here in a few 
days, — perhaps this week.” 

With a piercing cry, Mrs. Norval threw her hands 
up and fell back in Julian’s arms. 

“ Who would have thought it ?” shrieked the 
wretched woman, as she swooned away. 

On hearing her shriek, the major, shrugging his 
shoulders, began to dress, saying, in loud soliloquy, — 

“ Murder will out. I reckon she won’t tell Julian 
he has a second papa! I wonder if Julian has re- 
ceived any letters directly from his father. I sup- 
pose so, and I’ll have to finesse like the devil. 
Heigh-ho ! Here it goes !” said he, thrusting into his 
pantaloons that leg which had been the subject of 
Mrs. Norval’s anxious solicitude when it got wounded. 
Then he continued soliloquizing: 

“If I finesse right, I might yet get Lola without 
violent measures — which I detest ; too brutal for my 
taste. They might all help me, for Julian must hate 
exposing his mother, and she must be terrified. And 
Lola is generous and self-sacrificing, and all that sort 
of thing.” And the major laughed, feeling that in the 
midst of difficulties he was in his element. 


388 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


CHAPTER L VI 1 1. 

THE MAJOR BEFORE MRS. NORVAL’S CHAIR. 

Slowly Mrs. Norval returned to consciousness, to 
life, to know that she was wretched. A short twi- 
light of reason revealed to her in all its horror the 
debasement of her situation. She saw around her 
the pale faces of her distressed children ; she saw 
Lola, Isaac, and Emma, and at the foot of the bed 
she saw the major. A shudder, a feeling of horror 
came over her ; she tried to speak, but could not ; she 
raised herself, and with another shriek again fell back. 
Nature succumbed; she was delirious; fever took pos- 
session of her brain, and she did not know any longer 
that she was a miserable woman. 

The palatial mansion of the Norvals, lately so gay 
and brilliantly illuminated, was now a vast mass, 
darkly, ominously silent. The joyful news brought 
by Julian had turned music and laughter into maniacal 
ravings and timid whispering. The gay dancers now 
walked about in noiseless tread. 

At noon the doctor called to attend Mrs. Norval 
said she had a violent brain-fever, which might de- 
prive her of reason, if not of life. Still, she might 
possibly recover. , 

Julian telegraphed to Aunt Lavvy to come imme- 
diately. When the family was happy, no one missed 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


389 

the kind Lavvy ; but as soon as misfortune came, 
Lavvy was indispensable. She telegraphed back that 
she would take that night’s train and arrive in New 
York next morning. 

Weary and enervated with the painful excitement 
of that long dreary day, Ruth and Mattie felt ex- 
hausted when night came. Lola begged them to lie 
down and try to sleep, that she and Emma would 
watch in the sick-room. The major gave his sister a 
very significant look, which made Emma join her 
persuasions to those of Lola. 

“ I thank you,” said Ruth ; “ I guess it is the wisest 
thing we can do, and since you are so kind I think 
I’ll go to bed. Aunt Lavvy will be here to-morrow 
to help us with mamma, so you will not have this 
trouble again.” 

Mattie, however, refused point-blank, saying that 
it was her duty to stay by her mother. 

“ But isn’t Julian here, you goose?” said Ruth. 

“ Yes, but he can’t be up all night.” 

“ Let me tell you what ought to be done,” said the 
major, looking at his watch. “ It is now nine o’clock. 
Julian and Isaac will watch until one o’clock, and 
then Emma and I will take their place until daylight, 
when, if Mrs. Norval is quiet, Hannah, her woman, 
can relieve us and watch until eight or nine, and then 
Ruth and Mattie will be up.” 

“ And when is my turn ? You leave me out 
entirely,” said Lola to her hated worshiper. 

“ You look as pale as Ruth and Mattie. You 
ought to go to bed now,” the major replied. 

33 * 


390 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


Lola gave a toss of her graceful head, which the 
major thought enchanting, as she insisted, — 

“ I will not be sent to bed. I will help Julian and 
Mr. Isaac or Emma.” 

“ Let Lola and me watch with Julian and uncle,” 
Mattie said; but the gentlemen approved the major’s 
arrangement, and that was the one adopted. 

When everybody had retired to rest and Isaac and 
Julian were alone in the sick-room, a white little 
hand pushed the door open, and Lola walked noise- 
lessly into the room. She approached Julian, and said, 
in a plaintive tone of earnest supplication, — 

“Julian, do let me watch with Mr. Isaac. You 
traveled all last night and have had no rest to-day, 
and Miss Lavvy wrote to me that you had some 
trouble in Washington, — which I can see by your 
face, for you look very haggard and weary. Please 
do take some rest, at least, on that lounge there,” 
said she, pointing to a lounge at the opposite end of 
the room. 

Julian made no answer, but, taking the little soft 
hand she had laid on his shoulder, kissed it and drew 
her towards the lounge. Passively she followed. He 
sat down, and motioning to her to sit by him, and 
drawing her still closer towards him, compelled her to 
sit down very close to him. She gave a half-scared, 
furtive look towards Isaac. 

“Never mind him. He knows all. Mattie told 
him we love each other, and he is our best friend. 
Now, tell me what is the matter; why did you call 
me ? There must be some trouble. What is it ?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


391 

Lola hung down her head and blushed until her 
temples were crimson. 

“ What is it, dearest ?” said Julian, putting his arm 
around her waist and stooping to look into the down- 
cast eyes. “ Surely it must be something very serious, 
to trouble you so much.” 

“ If it wasn’t very serious do you think I would 
have been so earnest in my entreaties ?” said she, and 
hid her face on his shoulder to prevent his seeing the 
rising tears. But, bitter as the confession was, it had 
to be made; and she told Julian all about her adven- 
ture of passing herself off for the major’s wife, and he 
for her husband; and how Mrs. Norval had told her 
not to question the major, but be guided by him in 
entire confidence; and, finally, what the major had 
told her in the balcony about stopping her father 
from taking her away by accusing him of kidnap- 
ping Major Hackwell’s lawful wife, etc. etc. 

In horrified silence Julian listened. He had always 
suspected Hackwell of being a rogue and a hypocrite, 
but he had not imagined he was capable of such 
villainy. Julian did not know what to think. 

“ I will see Mr. Sinclair to-morrow,” said he, after 
thinking in silence for awhile, “and I will consult 
Mr. North, who has for years been my father’s lawyer, 
and with them I will decide what we had better do. 
Hackwell is a very smart lawyer himself, and there 
must be some pretext on which he can build up a 
case, I suppose. To-morrow I will have a talk with 
him before I see Mr. Sinclair and Mr. North.” 

“ You will have to see him early, because Mina 


392 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


told me that he has been ordered by telegraph to 
report at the War Office.” 

“And how did Miss Mina learn that?” 

“ Oh, as for that, she knows everything that passes 
at the major’s office. Lieutenant Head tells her 
everything, and what he doesn’t know Mrs. Skroo 
does ; and she, too, makes a confidante of Mina.” 

“ How judicious their choice !” 

“Very. Mina says, too, that Mrs. Skroo is sure 
that the major will be dismissed, because he has de- 
frauded the government, and that (Mrs. Skroo says) 
she hopes to see the major flat on his back.” 

A piercing shriek from Mrs. Norval, which made 
Julian and Lola spring to their feet, put an end to 
their conversation. For a whole hour the poor 
woman raved about her darling buried in the sand, 
and the horrid negroes and the ugly Indians, and 
then became calmer again. 

At one o’clock precisely, Emma, followed by her 
brother, came into the room. Julian’s blood mounted 
* to his temples, but being in the dark the major did not 
notice it. He frowned darkly at seeing Lola there, 
when he had thought she was in her bed asleep. 

Julian felt a great desire to take the villain by the 
throat and pitch him into the street, and he had an 
almost invincible repugnance to leave him in the 
room where his mother was lying so helpless, as if 
he were quite capable of murdering her. He did 
not know why, but he had for a long time felt that 
his influence was injurious to his mother; and now, 
though he could not bring a proof “ as big as a mus- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


393 


tard-seed,” he was sure that by some process he 
had undermined her fortitude and deteriorated her 
well-balanced brain, until she was unable to stand 
even the shock of such gladsome news. Poor Julian ! 
How near and how far from the truth he was ! 

But he had no reasonable excuse to give ; and, to 
fly from the entreaties of Emma, — Emma, who had 
become absolutely repulsive to him, — he hurried out 
of the room, saying to Lola, — 

“ Come ; Heaven knows what he will do to my poor 
mother !” 

When the last sound of their retreating steps had 
died away, the major went to the door and peeped out. 
No one was in the hall. He locked the door and 
walked straight to Mrs. Norval’s desk. Turning to 
Emma, he said, — 

“ Please to have the kindness to sit on the other 
side of the madam’s bed, and not follow me with 
your eyes. I don't bear watching .” 

Wisely, Emma did as her brother said, and with 
the high foot-board and drapery of Mrs. Norval’s. 
elegant bed between them, she did not see what he 
did. Then he took a bunch of small keys from his 
pocket and opened Mrs. Norval’s writing-desk. From 
a secret drawer he knew how to open he took some 
letters and some bank-notes, and in their place he 
put a long envelope, sealed in three places. This 
done, he arranged the papers and everything else as 
they were before, and locked the desk, muttering, 
“ There, the doctor will find his will unopened.” 
Then to Emma he said aloud, — 

R* 


394 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


“ Go to sleep on that lounge. I can watch her ; 
and if she gets to raving and tries to get out of her 
bed, I can call one of the footmen.” 

Emma was too sleepy and too accustomed to obe- 
dience not to be perfectly docile this time. Without 
a word of remonstrance, she went to lie down upon 
the lounge as she was told. He then unlocked the 
door, and, taking a book, seated himself in front of 
a well-shaded lamp which was on a round table near 
the fireplace. 

The major was very pale, and looked anxious, and 
trembled. But let no one suppose that such a trifle as 
Mrs. Norval’s sudden and — to all but himself — mys- 
terious illness disturbed him. No. What troubled 
the major was a telegram received about noon from 
Washington, and the contents of which Mrs. Skroo 
seemed to have clah'voyantly read and communicated 
to her friend Miss Mina, who, in her turn, communi- 
cated them to Lola, and Lola to Julian. 

The telegram informed the major that his resigna- 
tion could not be accepted until he answered some 
charges made against him in a report addressed to 
the War Department by his head clerk, Mr. Skroo. 
He accused the major of having appropriated govern- 
ment funds to his own use, alleging that there were 
many false vouchers signed by the major, and a bal- 
ance of nearly half a million against him. This 
telegram was followed immediately by another, order- 
ing Major Hackwell to report at the War Office, in 
person, without delay. 

These* two telegrams made the major pale. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


395 


After his threat to Lola, he felt he had put Julian 
on his guard; the doctor might now arrive- at any 
day, and yet he must go to Washington. 

His spirit chafed like a chained mastiff! Bitterly 
he laughed at the wisdom of man, which punishes 
man when innocent and rewards him when guilty on 
the sole condition that he be successful ! With his 
gaze fixed on the open book, not a word of which 
went any farther than the retina of his dilated eye, 
the major began to mutter to himself, a bitter sneer 
curling his lip, — 

“ I think the sooner we give over to women the 
management of public business, the better it will be. 
If we did not have such brute arrogance and unblush- 
ing conceit, we would long ago have seen the justice 
• and propriety of hiding our diminished heads. But 
no; Because we have the physical force to beat 
women at the polls with our fists, we maintain that 
they have no right there as thinking beings. And 
because we make the polls indecent with our profane 
language and drunkenness, we remain masters of the 
field. Glorious! Behold the result ! How well the 
world is governed ! What sagacity and strict adher- 
ence to honor are everywhere displayed ! Our own 
glorious government, in its grand role of ‘model,’ 
presents several shining examples. I wish I had 
made a confederate of that scoundrel Skroo, and 
stolen two or three millions. I never yet acted 
honestly — that is to say, like an ass — that I did not 
have occasion to repent. And I hate repentance. I 
fully sympathize with Satan in that respect. But 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


39<5 

such at present is the humiliating fact, and I have to 
beat my breast like a good friar, and to say, ‘ mea 
culpa.’ If I had been less true to the government, 

and more so to that poor woman ” Here he 

glanced towards the bed where the invalid moaned, 
and was silent for some minutes; then he recom- 
menced his monologue with another sentence. “And 
what and who is the government ? At present, of 
course, our government is the Secretary of War : that 
we all know. But I mean, speaking in general, What 
is a government ? Ah ! it certainly is a terrible im- 
personality if a republic, — an irresponsible tyrant that 
can neither blush nor be guillotined. And for this 
reason we call ourselves a free people ! And with 
perfect sang-froid we can see a cabinet-officer make 
a cat’s-paw of a President ! And we say we are the 
* model government ,’ because, as long as the mob is 
cajoled, no matter how much individuals are tyran- 
nized over, a cabinet-officer can crush anyone opposing 
him, and make it all right with the President by tell- 
ing him and the mob that it is done for the glory and 
interest of the people And Hackwell laughed 
bitterly, then continued. “Yes, so goes the misera- 
ble world, wabbling along as it rolls on impelled by 
man’s hand. If the whole external world was guided 
by the same hand, it would wabble too. Some of 
our wise legislators would make laws to have winter 
for ten years, and give to a rich company the mo- 
nopoly of collecting all the ice, then would decree 
to have summer for ten years, so that the ice job 
should pay well, no matter how many wretches froze 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


39 7 

to death, or died of exhaustion in such prolonged 
heat, and the ice so dear.” 

Again Hackwell broke off, and was silent, then 
recommenced : — 

“ What a contemptible, hard-headed brute man is ! 
How I despise my sex ! for I am behind the scenes 
with him, and know what he really is. No woman 
can ever fathom the dark depths of man’s heart ; and 
it is well she cannot, the poor thing !” He stood up. 
He would have liked to walk about the room. To sit 
still when his brain was working with lightning speed 
was torture indeed ; but he endured rather than dis- 
turb the invalid. He sat down again, and leaned back 
in his chair opposite to the one always occupied by 
Mrs. Norval when they used to retire to the privacy 
of her bed-chamber, to have their cosy talks as man 
and wife, which she loved so well. The major passed 
his hand across his eyes, as if to shut out the sight 
of that vacant chair, so eloquent in its emptiness, and 
a sickly feeling came over him. “ Bah !” he ex- 
claimed, looking fixedly at the chair, as if he an- 
swered the mute piece of furniture. “ Nothing on 
earth can be more useless than repining ! Curse 
remorse! I hate it and despise it! It is a mean 
1 rechauffe' of one’s sins, in which even the sweetest 
turn sour by the miserable warming-over. It is a dish 
which cowards alone should eat. The brave fling it 
to the dogs. Only the bigoted Roman Catholics be- 
lieve in the efficacy of remorse, which they call Co7i~ 
trition Here a shriek from the sick woman ended 
the monologue. As if the last word had gone through 
34 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


39 8 

her heart like a dagger, she stood up, holding her 
hand to her heart. Hackwell laid her softly down, 
but her shrieks and ravings continued until daylight. ^ 


CHAPTER LIX. 

JULIAN AND HACKWELL VIS-A-VIS. 

The major was in his office early next morning. 
He wished to take the half-past twelve train for 
Washington, and had many papers to sign, some 
letters to write, and many to burn up, before leaving. 

“ Good-morning, major. You left early this morn- 
ing,” said Julian, walking in. 

“ Good-morning,” said the major, with his accus- 
tomed courteousness. “ Glad to see you. Take a 
seat, please. I’ll be through in a minute. Yes, I 
left very early, because I have several things to at- 
tend to this morning before I go, and I wish to get 
to Washington to-night.” Then he handed the Herald 
to Julian to read, while he finished what he was 
obliged to do at once. 

“ The Lieutenant-General will soon be on the Po- 
tomac, and the army put in motion,” Julian read, and 
his blood flowed with a quickened impulse ; for he 
was a great admirer of the hero of Vicksburg, and 
longed to fight under his orders. The major now 
turned, as if ready to enter into conversation ; and 
Julian, with the newspaper in his hand, said — 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


399 


“ General Grant will soon be with us now. We 
will finish the war in double-quick time.” The major 
shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, “What is that to 
me?” Julian added, — 

“As I am anxious to be with my brigade before 
the army moves on, I hope my business with you 
will be arranged soon.” 

“ And what is your business ?” coolly asked he. 

“ I wish to know what is this farce of your marry- 
ing Lola. Have the kindness to explain the matter 
to me before I speak with her father about it.” 

“ By whose authority do you question me ?” 

“ You know very well, major, that my father con- 
stituted me her guardian during his absence, and, 
moreover, I am engaged to her.” 

“You are engaged to Emma. You cannot insult 
my sister in my presence by avowing yourself en- 
gaged to another;” and, so saying, the major carried 
his hand to his breast. Julian did the same, saying, 
derisively, — 

“ Have a care ! You forget that you presented to 
me the mate of your little five -shooter.” 

The major withdrew his hand, saying, — 

“ I cannot comprehend how, if you are a gentle- 
man, and what is called man of honor, you can come 
here to tell me to my face that you are engaged to 
Lola, when you have been for years pledged to my 
sister.” 

“ I see very well that you have an object in wish- 
ing to turn this matter off and again make a cat’s-paw 
of your sister. But my time is too precious to allow 


400 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


you such play. I will give you full satisfaction on 
the score of my engagement to Emma (if she says 
such exists) afterwards ; but now I must insist on 
your acquainting me with all the particulars of your 
pretended marriage.” 

“And what if I consider your questions imperti- 
nent, and refuse to answer them ?” 

“ Then I shall take steps to oblige your accom- 
plices in the plot to tell me, and perhaps this will 
complicate matters for you in Washington. I am 
not a lawyer, but it seems to me there must be some 
way in which we can frustrate your plot.” 

The major reflected for a minute, and, seeing that 
he could not afford to provoke hostilities until he 
returned from Washington, said, — 

“ All I can say is what Lola has already told you, 
— that is to say, that we are married, and Lola ad- 
mitted the fact before five witnesses.” 

“ And do you intend really to force Lola to recog- 
nize you as her husband because with your lies you 
caught the poor child in a vile trap?” 

The major turned livid with anger; he said, — 

“ It is my turn to say have a care ! As long as 
you speak to me with some courtesy, I’ll answer you; 
but if you forget yourself, I may do the same.” 

“ No, you won’t. Forgetting one’s self is generally 
the fault of honest people.” 

The major shrugged his shoulders, and Julian 
continued : V 

“ But I’ll humor you. I’ll put my question thus : 
And are you going to attempt to force Lola into this 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


401 


new-fashioned marriage, because you made her believe 
that in saying she was your wife she was using a 
harmless subterfuge, to obtain information which 
you assured her she could not obtain otherwise ?” 

“ Lola said before five witnesses, several times, 
without compulsion, that she is my wife. If a court 
of justice is to admit that I used unfair means to en- 
trap Lola, can’t it also be admitted that you may be 
using unfair means to seduce my wife from me?” 

“ Major,” said Julian, after a short pause, “ it must 
be clear to your mind that all you will gain in this 
matter will be to drag Lola into a terrible notoriety, 
which will be agonizing to one so sensitive and bashful 
as she is. But let me assure you, on my word of honor, 
that when we have exhausted all the means we can 
command to save Lola from you, if we fail in all else, 
then we will meet you on your own ground, and de- 
feat you too.” 

When he had said this, Julian rose to take his 
leave. The major rose also, and said, — 

“ You will find it more difficult than you think to 
defeat me. Lola and I have lived for months under 
the same roof. Can any one prove that we have not 
lived most intimately ?” 

Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when 
Julian dealt him a blow on the head that sent him 
reeling to the ground. But the major had his hand 
on his revolver when speaking, and as he fell he fired. 
The ball passed close by Julian’s head, and before the 
major had time to revolve the pistol to fire again, 
Julian had wrested it from his hand, holding him 
34 * 


402 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


down by placing his knee on the breast of the fallen 
adversary. 

“ Infamous scoundrel 1” said Julian, shaking the ex- 
parson by a very gaudy cravat, “ I have a great mind 
to scatter your vile plotting brains with your own 
pistol.” 

“Do it, if you are coward enough to shoot a man 
fallen on his back,” said the major, defiantly. 

Julian arose, and spurning the prostrate major with 
his foot in no gentle manner, he said, — 

“ Arise, viper ! I won’t kill you, though I feel I 
am doing society a wrong by not crushing with my 
heel such a venomous reptile.” Then, without wait- 
ing to see the discomfited hero arise, or hear what 
more he might have to say, Julian walked out of the 
office, putting the captured pistol in his overcoat- 
pocket. 

From the major’s office he stepped into that of 
Messrs. Hooker and Skinner, where he met an old 
acquaintance, no other than his ex-reverence Ham- 
merhard. “The firm” politely gave Julian all the 
information he wanted, adding, moreover, that Lieu- 
tenants Wagg and Head would no doubt be very 
happy to tell the colonel all they knew. Julian 
thanked them, saying he would call on the lieuten- 
ants some other time. Then he asked Mr. Hooker 
how he came to have the information about Lola’s 
father. 

“ Mr. Isaac Sprig was an old client of ours, and he 
wrote us from Mexico about the matter,” Mr. Hooker 
answered. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


403 


“And why did you require so many precautions 
to acquaint Miss Medina with what you knew? You 
certainly could not have doubted her identity ?” 

“ Why not ? We did not know her.” 

“ But you knew the major, and that she lived 
with us.” 

“ Yes, but we were not bound to part with informa- 
tion which was valuable to us, without some security. 
The reward offered was ten thousand dollars.” 

“That is not the point ; and you know it as well as 
I. The point is, that you connived with the major 
to deceive Lola into the belief that she could not ob- 
tain the information unless she said she was married. 
It is an infamous plot ; and lawyers who lend them- 
selves to such vile purposes should be kicked out of 
the bar.” And Julian walked leisurely out of the 
office. 

At the corner he took the omnibus and rode up to 
Mr. Sinclair’s house, as it was not yet ten, and he 
never came to his office until half past ten or eleven. 
He was not sure, either, that Mr. Sinclair had re- 
turned from Washington. 

The servant who came to* open the door informed 
Julian that Mr. Sinclair had returned on the previous 
evening, and was now at breakfast. Julian sent his 
name in, and told the servant he would wait in the 
library. He did not have to do that long, for in a 
few minutes Mr. Sinclair made his appearance. He 
had been informed by Mrs. Sinclair of Mrs. Norval’s 
sudden illness, and expressed to Julian warmly his 
regrets. After thanking him, J ulian went at once into 


404 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


the matter which brought him there. Mr. Sinclair 
listened with all the attention and surprise which the 
subject merited, and after hearing all that Julian had 
to say, seeing that the best adviser would be a lawyer, 
he told Julian that his coupe was at the door, and the 
best thing they could do was to go and consult Mr. 
North. They found this gentleman as he was taking 
off his overcoat, just arrived at his office. Again 
Julian went over the whole of the hateful story. 
When he had finished, Mr. North told them that he 
had no doubt but what they would, in the end, de- 
feat Hackwell, but that there was no denying that he 
had trumped up quite a case, and Lola could not 
escape notoriety. 

“ Then we must defeat him with his own weapons, 
and plot to extricate Lola out of his clutches,” said 
Julian. “ He has bought a yacht, and has given 
orders to have it ready to sail at any moment. Sup- 
pose we too hire a yacht to have ready to chase his 
if he attempts to abduct Lola ?” 

“ Yes, your idea is good,” said Mr. North. “But 
if such is his intention, his taking affidavits must be 
only with a view to defend himself in case you stop 
his taking his wife with him. Have you any idea 
how he contemplates to take Miss Medina from the 
house ?” 

“I suppose he intends to decoy her, as before, with 
some trumped-up story,” said Mr. Sinclair. 

Julian had been silently studying out a plan which 
he thought would certainly circumvent Hackwell. 
When he had organized it in his mind, he communi- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


405 

cated it to Messrs. Sinclair and North, both of whom 
approved it. 

Mr. North was commissioned to hire a yacht and 
have it made ready to sail immediately. Also he 
would write to Mr. Hooker, proposing to commence 
negotiations with a view of entering into some agree- 
ment with their client, the major. 

Julian would inform Don Luis and Lola of the 
whole matter that day, and what they had decided 
to do. 

Mina had left Miss Ruth’s service, and was now 
heart and soul engaged in Lola’s. 

She had sworn vengeance on the major, and had 
ordered her meek slave, Sophy, to watch “the firm,” 
and report to her all they did, or intended doing. 
Sophy blindly obeyed. His infatuation for the little 
grisette had completely clouded the dim light of his 
nutshell intellect. His little head throbbed and his 
mild submissive heart ached when she did not smile 
on him. The slightest frown was torture to his tender 
soul. She was his queen, and he her abject slave. 
She was his oracle, which, the less he understood, the 
more he reverenced. She did not want matrimony ; 
she scorned such slavery. She was the prettiest ad- 
vocate of free love , and he her most devout proselyte. 

On the other hand, Mina’s new friend, Mrs. Skroo, 
gave her all the time valuable bits of information, 
which were faithfully transferred to Lola. 

“ Mademoiselle,” said she to Lola, two days after 
the incidents narrated above, “the major has tele- 
graphed that he is coming from Washington, with or 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


406 

without leave, to stop your going away, and Sophy 
says that they know that Mr. Julian has a yacht to 
take you on board the Cuban steamer; they tele- 
graphed that to the major.” 

Lola ran to Julian to report the news. 

“Good!” said Julian. “ I like that. Let them get 
ready to stop our taking you off in the yacht. Let 
Mina confide to Sophy that such is our firm in- 
tention.” 

Then he went to see Mr. North. They agreed to 
redouble the preparations in the yacht. 

“ The yacht will be ready to-night, and Mr. Hooker 
and I are to have our first conference in a day or two,” 
said Mr. North, laughing. 


CHAPTER LX. 

“ il n’y a que les morts qui ne reviennent pas !” 

Jule, the widower, sang merrily in his cage, as if 
he wished to celebrate his impending journey. But 
Jule was ignorant of the fact that he was to sail next 
morning in the steamer bound for Cuba. So, that 
night, when Lola came and broke his dignified re- 
pose by opening his cage and taking him bodily out 
of it, Jule’s memory flashed back to the dark day 
when Lavinia, converting herself into a she-Herod, 
had slain so many innocents. Jule had no reason to 
suspect Lola of similar murderous intentions; but 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT t 


407 


had he not trusted Lavvy? With this thought, Jule 
shook, frightened ; and Lola’s affectionate kisses on 
his little beak, and pet names of queridisimo , and 
jFulito precioso , only increased his distrust. With the 
native sagacity of the male sex, he distrusted one 
woman because another one had given him cause to 
do so. He saw his cage wrapped up in a shawl, 
whilst he was put to nestle under Lola’s, close to her 
heart. Then he could see no more. 

Next morning the Cuban steamer began to get up 
steam by nine o’clock ; but Hackwell’s satellites were 
well informed, and knew that she would not start 
until ten. 

The spies of the firm of Hackwell & Co. had kept 
for days a close watch on the Norval mansion. That 
day they would redouble their vigilance, and begin it 
earlier. 

About eight they saw a carriage drive to the door, 
and two closely-veiled females get into it. The first 
one came leaning on Colonel Norval’s arm ; the 
second was carrying a bird’s cage, a satchel, and 
some shawls. A gentleman in citizen’s dress, with a 
Spanish cloak wrapped around his shoulders and his 
hat well over his eyes, came out last, and followed 
them into the carriage. They kept down the 
avenue until they reached Fourteenth Street; then 
they turned to the left until they got to the Bowery, 
and went down towards the South Ferry. The spy 
was sure now. He was not disappointed. The stupid 
party stopped right in front of the yacht “ Dove ” and 
went on board. 


408 WH0 WOULD have thought it? 

The firm laughed triumphantly. Mr. Hooker or- 
dered their yacht, “ The Giant” to sail towards Jersey 
City, where he and Hackwell would embark. Then 
he went to meet the train, which was to arrive at nine, 
bringing the major from Washington. 

At ten o’clock the Cuban steamer began to move 
off. The yacht “ Dove” sailed by her at a short dis- 
tance ; “ The Giant” a little in advance, keeping them 
both under a watchful eye. 

“Are you sure that we have the law on our side?” 
said the major to Mr. Hooker. 

“ There is a limb of it, and two more are taking 
breakfast down in the cabin,” replied Mr. Hooker, 
pointing at a gentleman who sat whistling and look- 
ing at the steamer abstractedly, and to whom he said, 
“ Captain Jones, you think we will certainly catch 
them, don’t you ?” 

“ I have no doubt of it ; but, of course, we must 
wait until they get on board the steamer. While 
they go in on one side, we pounce on them on the 
other.” 

“ Hadn’t we better board the yacht ?” said the 
major, looking very pale. 

“ I think not,” answered Captain Jones. “ We 
can’t prove that they are kidnapping the lady only 
because they are sailing in a yacht inside the harbor; 
but if they go on board, then we have the dead thing 
on them.” 

“ Isn’t that a blue veil and a parasol I see on 
deck?” asked the major, trembling visibly as he 
recognized Lola’s parasol held over a head closely 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


409 

veiled. Mr. Hooker smiled proudly as he an- 
swered, — 

“ Of course it is. We have fooled them beau- 
tifully by pretending that we gave up the case and 
were willing to compromise matters for a sum of 
money. I am to have an interview with Mr. Sinclair 
or Mr. North at twelve to-day and talk about our 
terms.” 

“Why, Hook, they mean foul play! Mr. Sin- 
clair is in Washington now. The President had 
given me three days’ leave, when Sinclair went and 
told him a lot of trash about me (all of which I’ll 
make him eat afterwards), and then the President 
ordered the leave to be withdrawn, and I was obliged 
to take French leave. I suppose they’ll dismiss me 
for it ; but I don’t care, provided I get Lola. How 
can you see Sinclair when he is away, tell me ?” 

“ The agreement was to meet either Mr. Sinclair 
or Mr. North,” said Hooker. 

They had been sailing now for more than two 
hours. They had passed Staten Island, left behind 
Fort Lafayette, Coney Island, and Sandy Hook; 
they were out of the harbor. On they sailed. The 
day was clear, the air soft, the sea smooth. All was 
propitious to Hackwell. Still, he was anxious. He 
was silent for awhile ; then he looked at his watch; 
it was one o’clock. He felt more anxious yet. The 
steamer began to put on more steam ; her speed 
began to increase ; but the “ Dove ” did not seem to 
notice it, for it sailed at the same distance. A Eu- 
ropean steamer appeared in sight. It came on, on, 
s 35 


4io 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


growing as it neared; it had its flags, which meant 
something, but Hackwell did not trouble himself to 
understand it, and he sailed on, watching the “ Dove.” 

“ I don’t understand this dilly-dallying,” said the 
major, again looking at his watch. “ It is nearly 
four hours since we started ; we are miles off New 
York. I will board the yacht and ascertain what it 
all means. You be ready, Captain Jones, to come 
when I call you.” 

They approached the other yacht and hailed it. 
Julian stood up to answer. The gentleman in citi- 
zen’s dress, with the Spanish cloak, was talking to 
the two veiled ladies, with his back turned. He was 
watching the steamer. 

“ Can I speak with you a few minutes ?” said the 
major. 

“ Certainly,” Julian answered. 

“ May I ask where you are going ?” 

“ Yes, you may ask.” 

“ Well, where ?” 

“ If you will do us the honor to continue follow- 
ing us, as you have done for four hours, you will 
see.” 

“Will you let me come on board your yacht?” 

Julian looked at the receding steamer. It had in- 
creased its speed, and was fast getting beyond reach. 
He then spoke to the pilot something which the 
major construed into an entreaty to put on more sail. 
His supposition was confirmed by the fact that more 
sail was put on the “ Dove,” and she steered directly 
for the retreating steamer. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


411 

“ Julian pretended not to hear my last question. I 
think we had better stop them.” 

“We can’t prove they are abducting the lady,” said 
Captain Jones. 

“ They can’t catch the steamer now,” said the man 
at the helm. “ The wind is changing.” 

“ Yes, they are getting left,” said Hackwell, with 
renewed excitement. “ In half an hour she will be 
almost out of sight. I fear there is foul play some- 
where, or Julian is more stupid than I thought him 
to be. Let us hail them again.” 

“The Giant” again came alongside the “ Dove,” and 
the major again addressed Julian, who, leaning on a 
mast, watched the steamer with a very sad gaze. 

“ Colonel, I think your yacht is a very poor craft,” 
said the major. “ Mine is better; take it if you wish 
to overtake the steamer, for in yours you can’t do it 
unless the steamer is to wait for you.” 

“ Could your yacht overtake the steamer now, think 
you ?” asked Julian. 

“ It is rather doubtful now,” the major replied, “but 
yours certainly cannot.” 

“ Perhaps not.” 

“ You had better accept my offer. Your only chance 
to overtake the steamer is in taking my yacht, and 
every moment you lose counts against you.” 

“ I think not, but I am very much obliged to you 
for your civility.” And Julian again looked anxiously 
towards the receding steamer. 

“ In five minutes it will be too late,” the major said. 

“ Yes, I think it is too late now ; but, as we came to 


412 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


board the coming steamer instead of the one leaving, 
there is no need of troubling you.” 

“ What do you mean ?” 

“ I think Julian is very tantalizing to keep you 
from running after Lola, now that you can’t catch 
her,” said one of the veiled ladies, rising and remov- 
ing her veil, revealing to the astonished major the 
features of Miss Mattie Norval. “ As it is useless to 
accept your very kind offer, I’ll return your civility 
by inviting you to come to our yacht — though not so 
fine as yours — and meet papa with us. I hope that 
will repay you for the disappointment of not catching 
Lola.” 

The major did not know whether he heard aright, 
or whether Mattie was jesting. 

“ What is the meaning of this ?” said he, with pale 
lips, turning to Hooker, who, with scarcely any more 
color in his, answered, — 

“ I can’t imagine.” 

The polished major swore a fearful oath, saying, — 

“ I shall soon know ;” then aloud, addressing 
Mattie, added, “ Since you are so kind as to invite me, 
I will go on board your yacht.” 

“ Come, major !” said Mattie, as he leaped aboard 
the “ Dove.” “ In a few minutes you will be face to 
face with papa. See how near he is.” And she 
pointed to the approaching steamer. 

The major tottered and turned paler. He was 
incapable of superstition, and scorned remorse, but 
the words of Mattie of being “face to face ” with 
the man whom he had so deeply injured, smote him 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


413 

with a force the mo e powerful as it was to him 
unknown. 

One glance he cast in the direction indicated by 
Mattie, and not only one steamer loomed up with 
rapidly increasing magnitude, but it did so as the 
other carrying Lola away became at every second 
smaller and smaller. Punishment approached as 
hope receded. If he had been, a heathen of classic 
times, he would have exclaimed, — 

“ Nemesis ! Retribution !” 

But as he was a Christian , a modern sinner, an 
unpoetical breaker of the ten commandments, he 
merely shrugged his shoulders ; and though he felt 
very sick and shaky, and weak in the knees, he 
averted his eyes from the black smoke which seemed 
now a long, black finger from one steamer to call his 
attention to the other, and he looked anxiously at 
the other lady, who still kept closely veiled. 

“ It is my Aunt Lavvy,” said Mattie, with a 
chuckle of half-suppressed delight. “ Take off your 
veil, Aunt Lavvy: the major doesn’t recognize you. 
There is no object in our fooling him any longer.” 

Lavvy took her veil off and bowed to the major. 
He removed his hat and also bowed. Then he looked 
at the gentleman with the Spanish cloak, who still 
kept his back towards them. 

“Turn this way, uncle; there is no need of your 
acting the part of Don Luis any more,” said Mattie, 
laughing heartily. 

Isaac turned and also bowed to him., 

Hackwell was too anxiously preoccupied to care 
35 * 


414 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


much for ridicule, or to give much thought to the 
absurdity of his plight. Still, for one moment, the 
humiliation of being thus duped almost equaled the 
rage at losing Lola, — perhaps forever ! 

“ I don’t understand,” he stammered. 

“Of course you don’t. You are too nonplussed,” 
said ‘Mattie, laughing mercilessly in his face. “ But 
I’ll explain to you. We came to meet papa, and to 
wave our handkerchiefs to dear Lola, who is now 
almost out of sight. As Julian knew you were in- 
tending to stop her going away, he thought he 
would fool you by pretending he was to carry her 
off in the yacht and put her on board the steamer 
outside the harbor. So he made all that fuss about 
getting the yacht ready, and, as you see, it was a 
good bait, and you swallowed it hook and all. You 
have the satisfaction, however, of having made Lola 
cry all day yesterday, for she knew that papa was 
coming in this steamer, and she hated to go without 
seeing him. But as she hated worse the idea of being 
entrapped into an odious marriage with you, she 
submitted to the cruel alternative of going without 
seeing papa. Julian took her and her father and 
Mina to the steamer last night, and stayed with them 
until midnight; then he left the poor child almost 
broken-hearted, for she loves Julian as much as she 
hates you.” 

The major was silent, and no one else seemed dis- 
posed to break the awkward pause. 

Mattie continued: 

“You used to preach very hard, bigoted sermons 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


415 


when you played your role of parson. Let me 
preach you a little one now, by calling your attention 
to that black line of smoke from the steamer carry- 
ing Lola away. Without taking the trouble to be 
very poetical, or dealing you poetical justice, we can 
very well see it looks like a black dividing-line be- 
tween you and Lola, traced by Providence to sepa- 
rate you and tell you to cease persecuting her.” 

The major laughed a horse-laugh, saying, — 

“ The black line looks more like the finger of my 
friend Satan pointing the way for me to follow her.” 

Then he turned his back on them, and, without any 
leave-taking, stepped back into his yacht, which a few 
minutes after was sailing back towards New York as 
the “ Dove” approached the English steamer. 

It had been as Mattie said. 

Lola had cried all day because that night she must 
go to the steamer to elude the vigilance of Hack- 
well’s spies, and she could not see the doctor. 

But Don Luis said he would not run the risk of 
being detained and losing that steamer ; and as for 
waiting for the next, he would not hear of it. The 
death of his daughter scarcely seemed to him more a 
calamity than a law-suit with Hackwell, in which the 
names of his wife and child would be dragged into a 
mire of publicity. 

About eight o’clock Lola had left the Norval 
House, — her house, — accompanied by her father and 
Mina. They got into a hack and drove to a hotel. 
There they dismissed that hack, waited aw'hile, and 
ordered another to the side^entrance, in which they 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


416 

drove to the steamer where Julian was waiting for 
them. 

Their rooms were ready. Lola put Jule into his 
cage, and sat down to talk with Julian. 

At midnight, Julian must go. 

Up to that time Lola had been cheering the 
desponding Julian, who felt crushed by the blow of 
the approaching separation. But now, when he at 
last arose to part, all her fictitious fortitude gave 
way, and she sprang up and flung her arms around 
his neck and clung to him. Both of course (as all 
lovers do) wished to die then and there. 

“ No, no ! I cannot ! Don’t leave me ! Why, 
why can’t you go with me ? Why not resign ? Oh, 
I may never see you on this earth !” sobbed Lola. 

“Yes, you will, dearest. My life will be spared, 
and one month after the last battle is fought, I shall 
be in Mexico. I could not resign now, when my 
brigade is waiting for me, and all the army will be 
marching in a few days.” 

“ But the war might last for a long, long time,” 
pleaded she, with her soft cheek close to Julian’s 
mustache. 

“No, it won’t. You will see what quick work 
the Lieutenant-General makes of it, and in a little 
while I shall be with you.” 

“ Oh, I don’t believe it ! I shall die ! I shall die !” 
she sobbed, clinging to him ; and Julian, with scarcely 
any more strength than she, pressed her to his breast 
and kissed the sweet pale lips as if he would 
draw from the petals of a rose long draughts of 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


4*7 

honey, of nectar, to give his heart the courage to 
leave her. 

But Don Luis wisely came in to put an end to 
such despairing adieus, and Julian left her; and as he 
walked away, he felt a great desire to fling himself 
into the dark water below. 

Lola sobbed and moaned all night. Her sad 
father sat by her and tried to soothe her, whilst he 
thought how much he would have loved to have 
found his child before she had so entirely given her 
heart away ! “ She can’t love me much now,” he 

thought, as he held the little hand in his. “ No 
child ever loves the parent after such love has entered 
the heart. There is nothing left but the dregs. Be 
it so ; it is God’s will and God’s law.” So ran his 
thoughts, while she sobbed, thinking of Julian with 
intense love, and of Hackwell with aversion ; and the 
gray dawn gently glided over New York Bay! 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT ? 


CONCLUSION. 


“ Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, 

That he hath grown so great?” — Shakspeare. 

Julian joined his brigade the day before the Army 
of the Potomac began the campaign of 1864 under 
Lieutenant-General Grant. If this campaign had 
not been so imminent, he would have resigned his 
commission the day on which his dismissal was re- 
scinded. But to leave when battles were so near at 
hand Julian could not do, — no, not even to follow 
Lola. Now, however, he had followed the hero of 
Vicksburg and Donelson to the Appomattox tree ; 
General Lee, with his brave army, had surrendered ; 
now Julian considered the war ended, and himself at 
liberty to leave a service he no longer loved. He 
tendered his resignation and went home to prepare 
for his departure to Mexico. 

Hurriedly Julian made his arrangements to leave. 
There was nothing to detain him at home now, as 
his mother was steadily improving under the wise 
treatment and careful watching of his father. But 
there was great urgency in his being in Mexico: 
Don Luis had written that all remedies having failed 
to restore Lola to health, he feared he would have 
to resign himself to lose his child ; that the doctors 


WHO W'OULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


419 


said her malady was nothing but a profound melan- 
choly, which could only be cured by the cause of it 
being removed. The cause of it being the absence 
from Julian, it was clear that Julian’s presence would 
be the remedy ; and so it was. 

A few days after he arrived, the roses and dimples 
which had fled when she went to Mexico returned 
with the Yankee lover. The coral lips parted in 
merry laughter again, showing the pearly teeth ; and 
the lustrous black eyes (which so maddened Hack- 
well) were once more brilliant with happiness or 
languid with love. 

But Julian and Lola were not the only ones of our 
acquaintances of these truthful pages to be made 
happy. Mattie and young Mr. Sinclair the son of 
the banker, were also to be made one. And Ruth 
and the renowned Major-General Cackle, in a very 
matter-of-fact way, agreed to do likewise. 

Yes, by the smoky rush-light of his intellect, the 
great hero had at last plainly discerned that Ruth 
was “a mighty fine girl,” and that if he had not seen 
this fact thus plainly years ago, when sliding down- 
hill on that sledge manufactured by brother Beau, it 
was “ because who could when so infernally cold ?” 

He said as much to Ruth one afternoon whilst 
driving in Central Park. And as she had been 
praising or criticising the elegant turn-outs which 
they passed, or passed by them, he, with commend- 
able naivete , added, “And if you marry me, Miss 
Ruth, you needn’t think you’ll have to give up your 
handsome carriages, nor your rich dresses, nor your 


420 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


fine house, for I’ll get you just as fine ones. I guess 
I have the stamps. Brother Beau and I have made 
a handsome thing this year out of our salt-pork and 
lard contract. In fact, this last year he and I cleared 
a good half- million, besides what we are making 
together with father and Tonny and Tool. Beau 
thinks in another year we can go railroading if we 
like. We are fast coining money, Miss Ruth. So 
says brother Beau.” 

Ruth required no further arguments. No key 
could open her heart but the one used by the clumsy 
hand of the heroic general. He stumbled right 
into the key-hole of that metallic heart of Miss 
Norval, and the organ, thus by chance opened and 
galvanized into action, sent the same sort of vitality 
to her brain, and the heavy features and bushy head 
of the modern Darius became beautiful, glorified, to 
her sight as he sat by her side talking of lard and 
salt-pork contracts ! In an instant Ruth saw her life- 
dream realized. She saw herself the leader of Amer- 
ican bon-ton , quoted and imitated by all the fashion- 
able belles of New York and Washington, of Long 
Branch and Newport, — all the well-dressed women 
who have a perfect right to be stupid, because their 
husbands have brains ; who have a perfect right to 
be silly and trifling, because their husbands conduct 
the mighty affairs of the nation ; who have a perfect 
right to be spendthrifts, because their husbands have, 
by extortion and driving hard bargains, accumulated 
princely fortunes, — all these beautifully-dressed ladies 
who slander as they drive in their ozvn carriages, 


WHO WOULD HA VE THOUGHT IT? 


421 


richly cushioned in damask ; who backbite from their 
bay-windows hung with costly satin ; who snub and 
ignore old acquaintances if seen driving in the Park 
in a hired hack, — all of this fortunate class Ruth 
wished to lead, and she felt equal to the task. 

With great candor and a frank laugh, she said to 
the hero of the involuntary heroic charge, — 

“ I am glad to hear you are so rich, for I confess 
I hate poverty ; I always did ; I do now.” 

“ So do I !” chimed in our Caesar. “ I hate poverty, 
and I hate poor people ! I wouldn’t for the world go 
back to plowing and manuring the farm, and taking 

care of the cows and horses and pigs, and ” 

“Hush!” interrupted she, in genuine alarm. “There 
comes Mrs. Van Krout. She might hear you !” 

A few weeks after this memorable drive of the 
great general and Ruth in the Park, Mr. Cackle, the 
father, dressed in the finest broadcloth, resting his 
yet firm hand upon a gold-headed cane, sat on a 
velvet-cushioned chair by the library centre-table of 
the Cackle mansion at Washington. The four sons, 
the pride of the Cackle family, and leaders of the 
nation, surrounded the proud father. 

At home, these four illustrious scions are called 
brother Beau } Ciss , Tonny , and Tool. But a grateful 
nation respectfully designates them as — the honor- 
able Mirabeau Demosthenes Cackle, the heroic Major- 
General Julius Caesar Cackle, the renowned Brigadier- 
General Mark Antony Cackle, the distinguished 
Marcus Tullius Cicero Cackle. 

It was a sight that would have done your patri- 
3 6 


A22 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


otic heart good, reader, — for I suppose you have 
a patriotic heart, — we all have in this country, — to 
see this brilliant cluster, this radiant galaxy, formed 
by Mr. Cackle the elder and his illustrious sons. 
Beau, the leader, at home as well as in Congress, was 
speaking; he was saying, — 

“Even if I should have to make it a personal 
matter, I shall tell the Secretary that Hackwell must 
not be dismissed.” 

“ I tell you what, Beau,” observed the celebrated 
Mark Antony, “ make Le Grand help you with the 
Secretary. He’ll do it ; for if Hack was to tell tales 
out of school, old Gunn would bust ; he’ll get his nose 
clipped.” 

“And Gunn and the Sec. are great chums,” added 
Marcus Tullius, with a wink, as a sign of his great 
sagacity. 

“ Of course they are,” rejoined Mark Antony. 
“ Don’t you remember how he kept Isaac in the Con- 
federacy for three years, and wouldn’t allow him to 
be exchanged, though poor Lavvy moved heaven 
and earth to do it ?” 

“ And many a good laugh we had thinking of the 
dandy Sprig in tatters, and the epicure feasting on 
hoe-cakes,” laughed Julius Caesar. 

“ Le Grand, of course, has influence, but you all for- 
get that he is a great friend of Skroo, or of his wife, 
which is worse yet. At the earnest request of Gunn, 
I recommended to Hackwell the rascally Hungarian, 
who, I believe, has gone to Europe with all his family, 
because he is the defaulter,” replied Beau. 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


423 


“ What are we to do if Skroo doesn’t return? He 
might take a notion to remain in his own country,” 
said Ciss. 

“ No, he won’t; he will return. I know him well. 
But still, his absence will cause delay; and the 
Secretary very properly remarked that a justly indig- 
nant nation will demand a speedy punishment of the 
guilty. And who are the guilty ?” said Beau. 

The four illustrious brothers looked at each other, 
and their proud father looked at them in silence. 

Beau, the leader, broke that silence. He said, — 

“ Brother Ciss, I fear that your two pets, Wagg and 
Head, must go by the board.” 

“ Poor fellows! I don’t like that,” answered Ciss. 

“ I know that when you took to your heels at 
Bull-Run-the-first one of these two showed you the 
shortest way to run to Washington, and the other 
told you where to find a stray horse and buggy. 
These were eminent services at that critical moment, 
services which formed the foundation of your good 
fortune, and you deserve great credit for not forgetting 
them. But, for all that, when it comes to a matter 
of necessity to find the defaulter or defaulters, what 
then ? Hackwell and Skroo won't be. Shall we ?” 

There was again a silence in the galaxy, which the 
elder Cackle broke by observing, — 

“Beau is always logical.” 

But Lieutenant Wagg was not; and though the 
great men swore on their sacred honor that when 
appearances were saved and the howl of the news- 
papers was silenced, he and his friend Head would 


424 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


be restored to their rank, and money put into their 
pockets, and though many more fair promises were 
made, Wagg was unmanageable. He refused point- 
blank to do anything except to keep silent as long as 
« they testified their friendship to him by an occasional 
bank-note. He knew too much ; he could be insolent. 
He had accompanied Mr. Skroo night after night to 
certain places, and had made a careful memorandum 
of the times when Mr. Skroo had lost at draw- 
poker stakes ranging from five thousand dollars up- 
wards. He had overheard conversations between 
Major Hackwell and his friends, Messrs. Hammer- 
head and Hooker and Skinner, in which it had been 
freely admitted that the major had pretended to be 
Lola’s husband to terrify her into acceding to be 
his wife in fact. Lastly, Lieutenant Wagg knew all 
about certain lard and salt-pork contracts of the 
Cackle brothers, besides other contracts of rotten 
blankets and of shoes made of burnt leather which 
they had sold to the best of governments. 

Altogether, it would have been inconvenient to 
make Wagg an enemy, for he was reckless and drank. 
So they, instead of that, gave him some money, 
whereupon he was very gay for some time, and had 
the usual visit of wild fancies, called by some people 
delirium tremens . His friend Sophy, of course, took 
care of him, and beguiled the hours of his watch 
writing sad verses to Mina. Sophy was very miser- 
able ; so when Wagg was too stupefied with laudanum 
to object to the monotonous sound of the guitar as 
he repeated hundreds of times, in Spanish and French, 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


425 


that he was dying and would surely die if Mina did 
not return, he arranged his “farewell to Mina ” to the 
doleful tune of “ The Flying Trapeze .” 

Sophy was peacefully occupied singing before the 
silent stove one evening, and the rats, as usual, rest- 
lessly ran about, much excited by his music. For 
the thousandth time Sophy was repeating his ode 
to Mina ; and he was proud of his verses and be- 
lieved he had shown good taste in interpolating the 
same with Spanish and French words, inasmuch as 
Mina was French and she had gone to a Spanish 
country. For this reason, and for the great sympathy 
Sophy felt for “ The Flying Trapeze ,” — whose fate he 
thought similar to his own, — the tears rolled down 
his cheeks, as at the end of each stanza he repeated, — 

“ II faut que je meure si tu ne reviens k moi ! — yes, yes. 

Me muero, me muero si tu no vuelves a mi ! — yes, yes.” 

(The word “yes” he thought rhymed beautifully 
with “trapeze.”) And the sympathetic rats sped 
around the room in mad career, as if frantically 
searching for means to avert the sad catastrophe and 
save mild Sophy. 

This harmless excitement had lasted about an hour, 
when it was interrupted by the entrance of an orderly, 
who brought to Lieutenant Head a communication 
from the War Office. The communication informed 
Lieutenant Head that he was cashiered. The terror 
of mild Sophy can better be imagined than described. 
He looked at the writing, at the stove, at the rats, in 
stupefied silence. The guitar scraped his fingers and 

36* 


426 WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


tumbled on the stove, and the strings got burned, but 
he did not know it. When the music ceased, the 
frantic careering of the rats also ceased; but they 
came stealthily to peep and roll their little eyes at 
Sophy, distending their nostrils inquisitively, wonder- 
ing what that smell of burnt strings could mean in 
conjunction with Sophy’s silence. 

This silence, however, was now broken by a heavy 
step heard coming up-stairs. Sophy, as well as the 
rats, listened. He did not know why he listened. 
He expected nobody ; he hoped nothing. He heard a 
step and a hiccough, then another and a hiccough, 
and so on until he counted ten or twelve steps and 
the same number of hiccoughs ; then there was a 
pause and then a loud laugh, and the voice of Lieu- 
tenant Wagg was heard saying, — 

“I say, old Sophy Head! How would it do 
to hang by the banister like a bat, eh? and sleep 
here, eh ? The devil a bit I hiccup when I don’t 
lift my legs, but as soon as I begin to climb these 
nasty stairs I hiccup like all possessed.” And, as 
if to illustrate his assertion, he began to ascend and 
hiccough. 

The patient Sophocles ran to meet his beloved 
friend, thinking that in all probability he would have 
to nurse again his wild fancies. Such, however, was 
not the case. On the contrary, Mr. Wagg was suffi- 
ciently sober to notice that his friend was in great 
affliction. 

“ Out with it, old woman,” said he. “ What is it 
now? Not the French lark, is it?” 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


427 

And when he understood what troubled Mr. Head, 
he said, pushing his friend towards the door, — 

“ Come along with me ; this couldn’t have hap- 
pened in better time. Those three little angels, 
Beau Cackle, old Gunn, and Parson Hackwell, are 
just now down-stairs. They sent me to bed. I’ll 
make a bed for them if they don’t stop their nasty 
tricks. Come along.” And, still afflicted with the 
hiccoughs, he dragged his friend after him until he 
reached Major Hackwell’s private office. 

The renowned gentlemen, designated by Wagg as 
“ little angels,” were there. In no very choice language 
Wagg laid before them his friend’s case, and would 
not leave the room until the Hon. Beau and the all- 
powerful Gunn sat down and wrote most urgent 
letters to the Secretary of War, asking him to with- 
draw the order cashiering Lieutenant Head ; which, 
in due time, was done. 

In the course of time Mr. Skroo returned, and 
Major Hack well’s accounts were settled, and his honor 
saved from the slightest imputation. The major then 
feared no one. He, moreover, was rich now, very 
rich. He rode and drove beautiful thoroughbreds, 
very different from the yellow masetudo of old, who 
squinted and lolled out his tongue so ridiculously as 
he dragged the squeaking vehicle owned conjointly 
with Hammerhard. He lived well, — yes, he led what 
is called a “ gay life ;” but he was very miserable. 
Whilst waiting for Skroo to come from Europe and 
enable him to settle his accounts, Hackwell had been 
forced to remain in Washington, and Julian had 


428 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


gone to Mexico, and was already there before he 
knew that his hated rival had left the Army of the 
Potomac. The bitterest drop in Hackwell’s bitter 
cup was the thought that, as Wagg had spoken so 
publicly of his marriage having been a sham , when 
Lola should come as Julian’s wife he could hardly 
dare to institute legal proceedings against her. The 
affair of the marriage was too well known now, and 
he would only make himself ridiculous. 

With an undefined idea that if he acquired power 
he might yet win Lola, or at least ruin Julian, and 
with the blackest despair filling his soul, Hackwell 
plunged into politics, and became the warmest friend 
of the Cackles, like one of them in fact, a true Cackle, 
and so he is now. But he hardly ever mentions the 
Norval family. The name of Mrs. Norval has never 
crossed his lips. As this poor woman became very 
violent once that at the request of Ruth he went to 
see her, the major took this incident as an excellent 
pretext never to darken the Norval door again. 

But he is a friend of Ruth, — now that she is Mrs. 
Julius Caesar Cackle. The major and Emma were the 
only friends of the Norval family who supported 
Ruth in her efforts to send her mother to an insane 
asylum, and Mrs. Julius Caesar — as the major is rich 
and a great friend of the Cackles — has not forgot- 
ten it. 

About the time when Sophy’s plaintive ditty to 
Mina, sung up in the garret to the silent stove and 
noisy rats, was interrupted so cruelly by the orderly 
delivering him his dismissal, at the same hour, in the 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


429 


u PP er P art of New York City, Misses Ruth Norval 
and Emma Hackwell were busily engaged assorting 
and arranging various articles of a magnificent wed- 
ding trousseau just arrived from Paris. Miss Ruth 
was saying, — 

“ Isn’t it provoking that pa won’t let me have a 
handsome wedding ? As if my having it is going to 
make ma worse. If she had been sent to an insane 
asylum she might have been well by this time. Pa 
is so obstinate.” 

“ Mattie and Julian are as much opposed to it, and 
so are Mr. Isaac and Miss Lavinia,” said Emma. 

“ I know it. They didn’t even want to let me send 
for my trousseau to Paris, but, as I told them I would 
not marry if I didn’t, Ciss insisted on it. They are a 
pack of obstinate fools, and I am glad I am going to 
Ciss, who will pay more attention to my wishes.” 

Sfc 5j< * * * * 

When gentle Sophy was reinstated to his rank in 
the army, and Wagg was appeased, and the major’s 
accounts settled, and Mr. Skroo dropped easily, the 
conscience of the Hon. Beau was satisfied. He felt 
that justice to the best government, and meed to merit, 
had been measured rightly, and he had now a better 
right than ever to turn his attention to his own bril- 
liant career and that of his illustrious brothers. In 
consequence, their success has been uninterrupted. 
Like the forest of gourds overtopping the young 
cedars and oaks, they hold their heads high in their 
transient glory. Perhaps, like the prophet’s gourd, 
they will wither on the third day ; but that day has 


430 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


not arrived. In the mean time, they march in the 
front rank, leading the American people. Shoulder to 
shoulder with them also march the Honorable Le 
Grand Gunn, and the Honorable Mr. Blower, — whom 
the reader may remember as a very warm advocate of 
the humane policy of starving the Union prisoners in 
the South, together with the stubborn, wicked rebels, 
in order that the war should be ended sooner. The 
Honorable John Hack'well also marches with them. 
They form a glorious phalanx. 

At this very hour, when these humble pages are 
drawing to a close, the mighty phalanx is marching 
about the country under the immediate leadership of 
General Julius Caesar, but under the instructions of 
Mirabeau the Honorable. 

As General Cackle believes that from the moment 
of his birth it was decreed by fate that his destiny 
should be influenced by horses, his motto is, — “A 
Kingdom for a Horse.” Which shows how original 
our Ccesar is. With that motto on one side of his 
banner, and on the other written, “ On to Cincinnati,” 
he leads the glorious phalanx to that city of celebrated 
pigs. 

In that city the phalanx delivered several eloquent 
speeches. Of these, one of the most remarkable, and 
quoted as a specimen of powerful oratory, was de- 
livered by our Ccesar . The concluding words of the 
modern Darius were as follows : 

“ Fellow-citizens ! have we not, we the Cackles, 
have we not led you triumphantly for twelve years ? 
Look among you, and you will see how many we 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


431 


have enriched. Why, then, will you not follow us 
now ? Have you forgotten that brother Beau is the 
father of our party, and that as such he must lose 
his patience when his children don’t obey him ? 

“ I remember that twelve years ago brother Beau 
said to me and Tonny and Tool, ‘ Let us teach the 
young idea to shoot , and to shoot properly, all over the 
country and we did, though at first neither Tonny 
nor Tool nor I understood what brother Beau meant. 
But you forget now all that we, the Cackles , have done 
for the country, and you go on forever talking of 
the siege and surrender of Donelson, of the siege 
and surrender of Vicksburg. Ain’t you tired of it ? 
I am i and so is brother Beau. Suppose Grant did con- 
quer Donelson and Vicksburg. What of that? I 
on my gray charger, or brother Tonny, could have 
done the same thing. Have you forgotten my furi- 
ous charge which won to our arms one of the most 
important battles, and for which the newspapers 
called me the modern Darius ? Yes, you forget that , 
and what brother Beau has done for our party ; and 
now that we want to purify it, you won’t let us ! But, 
mark my words ! If you don’t let brother Beau 
guide you, the party will go to pieces, the country 
will be ruined, and it will go down so low that it will 
never rise again. Therefore follow us, and help us in 
our work of purification. We have worthy and able 
coadjutors in the persons of the distinguished Hack- 
well, Gunn, Skroo, and Mr. Blower, and others equally 
notable. This Mr. Blower is the celebrated patriot 
of 1862 to whom the country (that is, our party) gave a 


432 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT! 


niche of honor for the memorable words he uttered. 
Speaking of the rebellious South, he said, 'We'll 

make it a solitude and call it peace', and he ” Here 

some one pulled the coat-tails of our Caesar, where- 
upon he lost the thread of his discourse, and became 
confused, and hurriedly wound up, saying, “ There- 
fore follow us blindly, and stop talking about how 
Grant treated Lee when he surrendered, and all that 
sort of thing we are tired of hearing. You know 
what I mean. Now, give me three cheers !” 

The cheers were given. The band played loudly 
“Glory, glory, hallelujah!” and Julius Caesar took 
his seat in the midst of the deafening applause thrown 
at his head by his ardent admirers. 

What the hero of the compulsory charge meant 
by saying, “ Stop talking about how Grant treated 
Lee when he surrendered,” was this : that he wished 
to exhort all the American nation, but especially the 
Southerners, to forget the soldierly courtesy, the 
gentlemanly consideration, of General Grant towards 
the vanquished enemy. The moderation and good 
sense shown then by General Grant were enthusias- 
tically praised by the grateful South and held up 
in striking contrast with the spirit of vengeance and 
unforgiveness which unhappily at that time pervaded 
this country. The Southern press, the Democratic 
journals of the North, and the more liberal of the 
Republican journals, all spoke in high praise of 
the man who in the height of success, and when 
he could have dictated any terms he pleased, never 
sought to be cruel or revengeful ; all lauded the sol- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


dier who, in the flush of victory, never forgot what 
was due to a great but less fortunate general, to a 
brave but exhausted army. 

This is what Julius Caesar asks the Americans to 
forget, this and all the other memorable events which 
the Americans remember with pride, and which to 
forget, the nation will have to forget also that it has 
a history, a glorious past, a future full of promise, 
and that on the brightest page of that history the 
name of Grant will go down to posterity. 

All this, however, is nothing to the Cackles. The 
phalanx continues its march, whilst Beau shakes the 
very walls of the Capitol in frenzied denunciations of 
all who are not Cackles. 

“ Father,” said the Honorable Beau when, after 
one of these exhausting philippics, he went home to 
hold a family council with his father and brothers, 
“ I fear we must be sweet to the Democrats. I fear, 
indeed! You know howl hate them and despise 
them, but what can we do ? We must try to make 
up with them, or be defeated. Tonny, and you also, 
Tool, must not forget to be sweet to them. I wrote to 
Ciss about our new departure .” 

“ You are always logical, my boy,” replied the 
elder Cackle, emphasizing his approval with a vigorous 
thump of his gold-headed cane upon the carpet. “We 
must and. shall be sweet to the Democrats /” 

“ For you know that by fair or foul means the 
Cackles must hold to their power,” added Beau. 

“ You are always logical, my boy,” said the elder. 

“ And be careful not to say one word of this 
37 


T 


434 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


before mother or the girls, for they will be writing to 
some one about it. Remember what a scrape mother 
got us into by writing about ‘ the great man who put 
the habeas corpuses all in irons, and had a right to 
ring his little bell under the Constitution/ ” suggested 
the wise Beau. 

“ He won’t hurt any one now: he is a gone coon,” 
said Tool, derisively. “ He won’t bully any of us as 
he did in those times.” 

“ ‘ No sound can awake him to glory again/ my 
dear boys,” added the elder Cackle. “ But, never- 
theless, it is well not to tell mother we mean to be 
sweet to the Democrats.” 

“ And now, my dear boy,” continued Mr. Cackle, 
addressing Beau, who looked as if his philippic had 
exhausted him as much as he had wished to exhaust 
his subject, — ■“ now you go and lie down and take 
some rest. You are used up.” 

Beau shook his head despondingly as he replied, 
*‘ r That is not the worst of it. The worst of it is, 
that it might be of no use. But I’ll keep it up.” 

“You must not despond so. You certainly were 
most eloquent. I and your mother thought several 
times that you were going to have a fit, you got so 
purple in the face. But by-and-by we saw it was all 
pure eloquence , 'the Cackle eloquence / so celebrated 
by the American people; and then we were proud, 
but not frightened. Your sisters felt particular pride 
in the persistent modesty with which you brought up 
your name — our name, the Cackle name — before the 
public. ‘What a pity/ we all said, — ‘what a pity 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


435 

that the whole nation could not have been here with 
us, listening to our Beau’s words of wisdom and 
unselfish patriotism /’ ” 

“ The whole nation shall read those words ! 
The whole world shall read them !” Beau replied. 
“ Thirty-five million copies of a pamphlet containing 
my speech are now printed, and shall be distributed 
over the land !” 

“ So soon ! Why, you just now made that speech, 
two hours ago !” exclaimed Mr. Cackle and Tool 
and Tonny, astonished. 

“ ‘ Strike while the iron is hot ’ has been one of 
my rules always ; so I had the thirty-five million 
copies of the speech printed before I delivered it. I 
ordered a cart-load to be brought here for the use of 
our family. I ordered three tons to be sent to Bos- 
ton, one ton to New York, two tons to the West, 
and so to be distributed that everybody can have a 
copy. Here is one I brought for you,”, said Beau, 
drawing one from his pocket. 

“ Read it to me! oh, read it to me !” exclaimed the 
fond father. And, as Beau is always ready to read his 
own productions, though much exhausted, he began 
to read, as follows : 

“ CACKLISM VS. GRANTISM. 

“ Mr. President, — You will observe that my natural 
modesty, and the bashful delicacy with which / 
always speak of myself, will preclude all desire to 
bring myself forward during this oration, unless it 
should be absolutely necessary. But I have no hesi- 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


436 

tation in declaring myself the father of our party, — 
the creator of it. There isn’t another Senator that 
can be compared to me in point of ability and of mer- 
itorious services to the country (/mean our party, of 
course). All admit that / beat -them all in brains. 
It is well known that I began in the beginning. I 
never cared about the color of the skin or about the 
character of my followers. All / cared for was to 
have power, so I intertwined my very bowels with the 
party ! It breaks my tender heart to see its original 
character changed. It harrows my sensitive soul to 
find I can’t manage it now as I used to, and that it 
will go to destruction, to ruin, the disobedient child ! 
Therefore I pray and implore a kind Providence (for 
I am a religious man, Mr. President), I pray that the 
danger may be averted ! Oh, I nursed the little 
darling in its cradle ! I sung to it the first lullaby ! 
Oh, don’t let me follow its hearse !” 

Here, Mr. Cackle the elder, as well as Tool and 
Tonny, being overcome by their feelings, Beau in- 
terrupted his reading to recommence again. But, 
not having much space, I cannot transcribe all the 
speech. I shall only quote those passages of it which 
seemed to affect the Cackle father and brothers most 
particularly, or to bring out their applause most enthu- 
siastically. Plrst Beau came to a place in his speech 
wherein he describes the applause he received twelve 
years ago, when he delivered, as father of the party , 
his first philippic against “ the oligarchy ” of the 
South ; then he contrasts his great ability with the 
want of it in the President, and his great love of freedom 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


43 7 


with the tyranny of the same magistrate, and corrobo- 
rates these charges with authority of no less magni- 
tude than that of E. M. Stanton, a man well known 
to the country for the mild and impartial use he made 
of his authority. Beau read from his pamphlet as 
follows : “ I am not alone in the opinion that Grant 
is usurping all power, and that he has not my ability. 
Edwin M. Stanton thought so too. He told me, 
‘ Grant cannot manage this country as you or I can.’ 
The whole world knows that there never was a man 
who abhorred tyranny as E. M. Stanton did. He 
was always law-abiding, and never assumed or usurped 
any powers. It is true that the newspapers used to 
call him the ‘barnacle of the War Office,’ because he 
resisted the order of the President to leave the office; 
but that President was a Copperhead, who should not 
have been obeyed, and E. M. Stanton felt it was his 
duty to disobey him and take into his hands the 
power so misplaced. 

“ Besides other horrible misdemeanors, do you 
know what President Grant has dared to do? My 
blood curdles with horror ! My brain reels with indig- 
nation! I can hardly articulate, but it must be told. 
He has dared to slight a colored gentleman, no less 
distinguished a citizen of African descent than Mr. 
Fred. Douglas. Yes, this monster of tyranny, this 
horrible usurper {observe, Mr. President, how mild is 
the language I use), this Ulysses Grant, not only did 
not invite Mr. Fred. Douglas to a diplomatic dinner, 
but he did not order to be destroyed the steamer in 
which Mr. Douglas was refused a seat at the dinner- 
37 * 


43 ^ 


WHO WOULD ^HAVE THOUGHT IT? 


table. Can the country tolerate this monstrosity ? 
We impeached President Andrew Johnson for offenses 
far less heinous than those committed by the present 
incumbent. Why can’t we impeach this President too ? 

^ Please let us try it ! I beg ! I entreat ! Remember 
that in selecting his cabinet he did not appoint a single 
Cackle to it. He is utterly unmanageable; I can’t do 
anything with him. 

“The Democratic party is dissolving. Now is the 
time for us to catch the falling pieces and join them 
and shape them into Cacklism . If we don’t do so, we 
will be very foolish. 

“ ‘ Cuando te den la vaquilla, 

Corre con la soguilla/ 

says Sancho Panza, very wisely. So I say, now 
that the Democratic party is about to disappear as a 
political organization, let us absorb it, and let us raise 
the banner of ‘ Cacklism against Grantism !’ ” 

“Aha!” ejaculated Mr. Cackle, “do you see now, 
boys, — you, Tool, and you, Tonny, — do you see why 
we must be sweet to the Democrats ? You are always 
logical, my boy,” said he to the Hon. Demosthenes 
Mirabeau Cackle, — “always logical; and you know 
it, and so does the nation.” 


THE END. 


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N. Y. Independent. 

“ This pleasantly told love story presents 
pictures of English society that will repay 
ifae reader.” — Pittsburg Gazette. 


“ Many of the scenes of her novel ant 
drawn with truth and vigor. . . . The in- 
terest is sustained throughout the story.” 
— Hearth and Home. 


Carhno. By the author of “ Doctor Antonio , n 

“ Lorenzo Benoni,” etc. 8vo. Illustrated. Paper cover. 35 cents. 


“ It is beautifully written, and is one of 
the best delineations of character that has 
been written lately.” — Phila. Day. 

“ It is a capital little story. ... A sim- 


ple and wholesome story charmingly told.” 
— Brooklyn Eagle. 

“ Strange and deeply interesting.” — N. 
Y. Hearth and Home. 


Walter Ogilhy . A Novel . By Mrs. J. H. Kin- 

zie, author of “ Wau-bun, etc.” Two volumes in one vol. i2mo. 
619 pages. Toned paper. Extra cloth. $2. 


“ One of the best American novels we 
have had the pleasure of reading for some 
time. The descriptions of scenery are 
spirited sketches, bringing places before 
tne reader, and there is nothing strained, 
sensational or improbable in the cleverly- 


constructed incidents. Even the graduat* 
ing week at West Point, though a hack- 
neyed subject, is presented with the charm 
of freshness as well as reality. This is 
a thoroughly good novel.” — Philada. 
Press. 


Askaros Kassis , the Copt. A Romance of Modern 

Egypt. By Edwin de Leon, late U. S. Consul-General for Egypt. 
i2mo. Toned paper. Extra cloth. $1.75. 


“ This book, while possessing all the 
characteristics of a Romance, is yet a 
vivid reproduction of Eastern life and man- 
ners.” — N. Y. Times. 

“ He has written us this thrilling tale, 


based on miscellaneous facts, which he 
calls ‘A Romance of Modern Egypt,’ and 
in which he vividly depicts the life of 
rulers and people.” — Chicago Advance . 


Beyond the Breakers. A Story of the Present 

Day. By the Hon. Robert Dale Owen. 8vo. Illustrated. 
Fine cloth. $2. 


“All readers of taste, culture and 
thought will feel attracted and impressed 
oy it ... We have, for ourselves, read it 
with deep interest and with genuine plea- 


sure, and can say for it that which we 
could say of few novels of to-day — that 
we hope some time to read it over again.” 
— N. Y. Independent. 


Compensation; or, Always a Future. A Novel. By 

Anne M. H. Brewster. Second edition. i2mo. Fine cloth. $1.75. 


“ It is an interesting work, and particu- 
larly so to those who are musically in- 
clined, as much useful information maybe 
gained from it.” — Boston Post. 

“We recommend this book to all who 
ire not longing for agony ; for such patrons 


it is too gentle and too delicate.” — Phila. 
North A merican. 

“The writer exhibits a happy talent for 
description, and evinces a rare taste and 
genius for music .” — Boston Recorder.. 


PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 


Bulwer' s Novels. Globe Edition. Complete in 

twenty-two volumes. With Frontispiece to each volume. Beau 
ti fully printed on fine tinted paper. i6mo. Extra cloth, $33 
extra cloth, gilt top, $38.50; half calf, neat, $55 ; half Turkey, gi*' 
top, $66; half calf, gilt extra, $66. Each novel sold separately, 
as below, in extra cloth, at $1.50 per volume. 


The Caxtons 1 vol. 

My Novel 2 vols. 

What will He Do with It P..2 vols. 

Devereux. 1 vol. 

Last Days of Pompeii. . ..1 vol. 

Leila, Calderon and Pilgrims. 1 v. 

Rienzi 1 vol. 

The Last of the Barons. . 1 vol. 

Harold I vol. 

Eugene Aram 1 vol. 

“ The Globe edition of Bulwer is very 
oeat and satisfactory — more satisfactory 
than any other issued in this country.” — 
Philada. North A merican. 

“The Globe edition is remarkable for a 
judicious combination ot cheapness, legi- 
bility and beauty.” — Charleston Courier. 

“We have repeatedly borne witness to 
“he pre-eminence of the Globe over all 
other editions, in respect to cheapness, 
neatness and convenience of size.” — Cin- 
cinnati Gazette. 

“The clear-cut type, delicately-tinted 
paper and tasty binding of this Globe edi- 
tion of Bulwer’s works cannot be awarded 
too much praise.” — Rural New Yorker. 

“We repeat what we have so often be- 
fore stated — that the Globe edition is the 
best ever issued on this side of the Atlan- 
tic.” — New Orleans Times. 


Zanoni 1 vol. 

Pelham 1 vol. 

The Disowned 1 vol. 

Paul Clifford 1 vol. 

Ernest Maltravers 1 vol. 

Godolphin 1 vqL 

Alice 1 vol. 

Night and Morning 1 vol. 

Lucretia. 1 vol. 

A Strange Story 1 voL 


“ The Globe edition of Bulwer furnishes 
a model well worthy of imitation.” — 
Philada. Age. 

“As to execution and price, there is no 
better edition in the market .” — Chicago 
Evening Journal. 

“We congratulate this w r ell-known Phi- 
ladelphia publishing house upon furnish- 
ing so complete, so legible, so compact 
and so beautiful an edition of the writings 
of this great novelist. The Americaa 
book-buying and book-reading public will 
not fail to place this fine edition upon their 
library shelves. It is the best cheap edition 
of Bulwer that we have ever seen. It is 
offered at the low price of $1.50 per volume 
at which price the purchaser gets the best 
part of the bargain.” — Providence Even- 
ing Press. 


Readers Novels. Illustrated Standard Edition of 
Charles Reade’s Novels. Complete in ten vols. i2mo. With 
Engraved Frontispiece and Vignette Title to each. Handsomely 
bound in extra cloth. Price, $15 per set. Extra cloth, gilt top 
$17 per set. Sold separately, in extra cloth, as follows : 


Hard Cash 

■$ 1.75 

Love me Little Love me 

Long 

■ 1-50 

Never too Late to Mend. , 

■ i -75 

White Lies 

. 1.50 

Foul Play 

. 1.50 


The Cloister and the Hearth$i.75 


Griffith Gaunt 1.50 

Peg W T offington 1.25 

Christie Johnstone 1.25 


The Course of True Love 
Never did Run Smooth. 1.2^ 


PUB LIC A TIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 


The Old Mam’selle’s Secret. 

of E. Marlitt, author of “Gold Elsie,” 
By Mrs. A. L. Wister. Sixth edition. 


“A more charming story, and one which, 
having once commenced, it seemed more 
difficult to leave, we have not met with for 
many a day.” — The Round Table. 

“Is one of the most intense, concentrated. 
Compact novels of the day. . . . And the 
’ work has the minute fidelity of the author 

Gold Elsie . 

author of the 
By Mrs. A. L. Wister. 

“A charming book. It absorbs your 
attention from the title- page to the end.” — 
The Home Circle. 

Countess Gisela 

litt, author of “The 
“ Over Yonder,” &c. 
i2mo. Cloth, $1.75. 

u There is more dramatic power in this 
than in any of the stories by the same 
author that we have read.” — N.O. Times. 
“ It is a story that arouses the interest 


After the German 

“ Countess Gisela,” &c 
i2mo. Cloth, #1.75. 

of ‘The Initials,’ the dramatic unity or 
Reade, and the graphic power of George 
Elliot.” — Columbus (O.) Journal. 

“ Appears to be one of the most interest- 
ing stories that we have had from Europe 
for many a day.” — Boston Traveler. 


of the reader from the outset ” — Pittsburg 
Gazette. 

“The best work by this author.*— ■ 
Philada. Telegraph. 


From the German of E. Marlitt , 

“ Old Mam’selle’s Secret,” “ Countess Gisela,” &c. 
Fifth edition. i2mo. Cloth, $1.75. 

“ A charming story charmingly told.”— 
Baltimore Gazette. 


From the German of E. Mar - 

Old Mam’selle’s Secret,” “ Gold Elsie,” 
By Mrs. A. L. Wister. Third Edition. 


Over Yonder. From the German of E. Marlitt , 

author of “Countess Gisela,” “Gold Elsie,” &c. Third edition. 
With a full-page Illustration. 8vo. Paper cover, 30 cts. 


“ * Over Yonder’ is a charming novel- 
ette. The admirers of * Old Mam’selle’s 
Secret’ will give it a glad reception, while 
those who are ignorant of the merits of 


this author will find in it a pleasant in- 
troduction to the works of a gifted writer ' 
— Daily Sentitiel. 


Three Thousand Miles through th Rocky Moun - 


tains. By A. K. McClure. 
Extra cloth, $ 2 . 

“ Those wishing to post themselves on 
the subject of that magnificent and ex- 
traordinary Rocky Mountain dominion 
should read the Colonel’s book.”— New 
York Times. 

“ The work makes one of the most satis- 
factory itineraries that has been given to 
us from this region, and must be read 
with both pleasure and profit.” — Philada. 
North A merican. 

*•' We have never seen a book of Western 
tra^ els which so thoroughly and completely 
tatidfied us as his. nor one written in such 


Illustrated. i2mo. Tinted paper 


agreeable and charming style .” — Bradford 
Reporter. 

“ The letters contain many incidents of 
Indian life and adventures of travel which 
impart novel charms to them .” — Chicago 
Eve fling Journal. 

“ The book is full of useful information.’ 
— New York Independent. 

Let him who would have some proper 
conception of the limitless material rich- 
ness of the Rocky Mountain region, read 
this botk,” — Charleston (S. C.) Courier. 


PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT 6 - CO. 


Tricotrin . The Story of a Waif and Stray . By 

Ouida, author of “ Under Two Flags,” &c. With Portrait of th« 
Author from an Engraving on Steel. i 2 mo. Cloth, $ 2 . 


“The story is full of vivacity and of 
thrilling interest ” — Pittsburg Gazette. 

“ Tricotrin is a work of absolute power, 
Borne truth and deep interest.” — N. Y. 
Day Book. 


“ The book abounds in beautiful senti- 
ments, expressed in a concentrated, com 
pact style which cannot fail to be attractive, 
and will be read with pleasure in everj 
household.” — San Francisco Times. 


Granville de Vigne ; or , Held in Bondage . A 

Tale of the Day. By Ouida, author of “ Idalia,” “ Tricotrin,” &c. 
i2mo. Cloth, $2. 

“This is one of the most powerful and I century, so prolific in light literature, has 
ipicy works of fiction which the present | produced.” 

Strathmore ; or , Wrought by His Own Hand . A 

Novel. By Ouida, author of “ Granville de Vigne,” &c. i2mo. 
Cloth, $ 2 . 


It is romance of the intense school, 
but it is written with more power, fluency 
and brilliancy than the works of Miss 


Braddon and Mrs. Wood, while its scenes 
and characters are taken from high life.” 
— Boston Transcript. 


Chandos. A Novel. By Ouida , author of Strath- 

m ore,” “ Idalia,” &c. i2mo. Cloth, $2. 


“ Those who have read these two last- 
named brilliant works of fiction (Granville 
de Vigne and Strathmore) will be sure to 
read Chandos. It is characterized by the 
same gorgeous coloring of style and some- 


what exaggerated portraiture of scenes and 
characters, but it is a story of surpassing 
power and interest.” — Pittsburg Evening 
Chronicle. 


Idalia. A Novel. By Ouida , author of “ Strath 

more,” “Tricotrin,” &c. i2mo. Cloth, $2. 


“ It is a story of love and hatred, of 
affection and jealousy, of intrigue and de- 
votion. ... We think this novel will at- 
tain a wide popularity, especially amoug 


those whose refined taste enables then, 
appreciate and enjoy what is truly beau- 
tiful in literature.” — Albany Evening 
Journal. 


Under Two Flags. A Story of the House / 

and the Desert. By Ouida, author of “Tricotrin,” “Granvill . ae 

Vigne,” &c. i2mo. Cloth, $2. 

“ No one will be able to resist its fasci- 
nation who once begins its perusal.” — 

Philada. Evening Bulletin. 

“ This is probably the most popular work 


ofvOuida. It is enough of itself to estab- 
lish her fame as one of the most eloquent 
and graphic writers of fiction now living.” 
— Chicago Journal of Commerce. 


Ouida's Novelettes. First Scries , Cecil Castle - 

maine’s Gage. Second Series , Randolph Gordon. 1 'hird Series 
Beatrice Boville. Each of these volumes contains a selection of 


“Ouida’s” Popular Tales and Stories. i2mo. Cloth, each $1.75- 


“The many works already in print by 
this versatile authoress have established 
her reputation as a novelist, and these 
short sto'-ies contribute largely to the stock 


of pleasing narratives and adventures alive 
to the memory of all who are given t a 
romance and fiction.” — N. Haven Jot**’ 


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